


Faded

by Adikia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Gen, Liberal Interpretations of Fade Magic, Modern Girl in Thedas, POV Multiple, Possible romance down the line, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adikia/pseuds/Adikia
Summary: The sky torn open, demons pouring everywhere, and Thedas must accept that their only hope is a large Vashoth mercenary with a mysterious, magical mark on his hand. Lias Adaar can't remember how it happened, but he still must face the fact that he fell out of the Fade. Even more mysteriously, he didn't fall out alone.A Modern Girl in Thedas story, in which our leading lady, Avery, plays a role as a companion rather than the Inquisitor. Mostly told from the Inquisitor's point of view, with a few chapters in Avery's point of view, as well as some segments from the other members of the Inquisition. Content warning for violence, death, gore, and strong language.





	1. From the Sacred Ashes

The tension in the air in Haven was palpable when the guard at the gate spotted the returning party. Everyone was already understandably on edge after the explosion that leveled the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but the news one of forward scouts brought back was already spreading through the village. People were gathered around the front gates, kept back just enough by some of the soldiers to leave room for the party to move through. There was a faint murmuring and nervous shuffling among the crowd. Humans, mostly, but there were a few elves peeking through the crowd or making up the edges of the group. All were stared expectantly at the doors when the order was called to open them. 

Varric had been standing further down the path, watching the doors finally open. He saw the green-clad soldiers and scouts file in, and immediately they started pushing back the crowd for more room. Instead of moving back, many of the people shuffle further down the path, where he and a few others already stood. The guard who the Seeker had ordered to watch Varric stopped straining her neck and started working crowd control with the others.

The returning party had filed in, and the whispers and murmuring got louder around him.

"I thought the bloody scout was lyin'," an older woman beside him whispered.

The procession was getting closer. They were moving slowly, with four soldiers trying to navigate up the hill while carrying a stretcher. 

"Can't be right, can it?" a young man whispered back to the old lady. "Must've just been further down the mountain or somethin' and got caught in the blast."

"No," the guard standing close by answered instead. He didn't whisper, but his voice was low. "Corporal Arledge saw it himself. Fell right out of a rift, right in the middle of everything. I was there when they came to the forward camp."

There were a few soft gasps of astonishment before everyone around him when unnervingly quiet again. The group was about to pass by and Varric was glad he didn't have to worry about the humans around him trying to push him aside to see like they were doing to each other. 

He could see the Seeker leading the four soldiers carrying the stretcher. Now that they were closer, Varric could see signs of battle on them, but none more so than the Seeker. She was walking with her hand on the pommel of her sword, jaw set and eyes flitting through the crowd for signs of danger. They paused briefly on Varric, but thankfully she'd just chosen to ignore him as she marched past him. 

When the stretcher finally came by, he was at perfect eye level to see it, and he understood why four men were needed. A fully grown qunari man was spilling over the sides of the stretcher. He wasn't nearly as big as the Arishok, or even some of the Arishok's men, but he was easily a head taller than any human. His head hung over the top a bit, horns making it impossible to lay otherwise. His legs were hanging off the other end. Varric only really got to look long enough to note these things, the battered armor, and, for some reason, a small blanket thrown only over his arms and chest. The Seeker had picked up pace and the soldiers were struggling to follow.

"Maker." An elven girl had squeezed her way beside Varric in the front. "But even a qunari--how could anyone survive that anyway?"

"Magic. Got to be," someone answered.

"But the Temple was crawling with mages and they all died like the rest of 'em."

"Seeker Pentaghast will find out. She'll find answers."

"A rift just opened and they fell out?"

The guard from the forward camp turned to his attention away from the first group to look at the next one. "That's what Arledge said. He and the others said there was a woman in the Fade behind them before they came through."

"A woman?" The young man asked incredulously.

"Someone else trapped in there?" The elf wondered.

"I don't know. That's just what they said. Anyhow, they've been out cold since," he said even lower. Two more soldiers carrying the other stretcher were finally coming through. The Nightingale was with this group, following instead of leading, keeping a watchful eye. Her bow was at her back and the quiver nearly empty. 

This stretcher held a much smaller occupant. A small, thin woman, curled up as best she could. Human, he guessed, but he couldn't see much of her face or ears through the waves of light blonde hair. Someone took pity on her and threw a ratty blanket over her, but the pitiful thing was still visibly shivering. The little he could see of her clothes looked old and somewhat tattered. That's all he managed to gleam before this group rushed past. Leliana at least gave Varric a small nod before shadowing them.

A few more soldiers followed. Some were injured, a few needing the support of others, but none of them looked too dire. The other injured that couldn't walk themselves were probably left in valley. Dying or dead. Still, more soldiers were gearing up to go up the mountain. The ones filing in now would probably be heading right back after they rested and got patched up. There'd been initial reports of demons, and it seemed like even more were pouring out by the hour. 

The crowd started to disperse as soon the chantry doors closed behind Leliana. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real fanfiction series that I've worked on. The idea for it has been in my head for... Well, since I bought the game in early 2015. I've been thinking, and over-thinking, and developing this idea for probably way too long. I've been trying, in vain, to get back into writing, but I thought this would be a good way to start. Sadly, I've been stuck writing and rewriting, and then viciously editing the opening for months now. I can't say I'm thoroughly satisfied, but it's almost 2018 and I thought, "Fuck it." I'm going to post what I have. I'm hoping it will push me to continue to write more and not dwell on what I've already got.
> 
> So, a bit of info on this story I've spent way too much time thinking about... It started as a self-insert fantasy, like a lot of my writing does, but continued to develop past that. My character, Avery, does have similarities to me, but I feel she's gone past the line of self-insert and is a character in her own right. When considering the plot and my original plans for the story, which had to be scaled back quite a bit, I realized I needed a proper Herald of Andraste, as the Avery in this story couldn't fill that role. Thus, Lias Adaar enters the picture, and boy did he throw a wrench in the plans. For the better, I think.
> 
> I intend for this to be told through my Adaar's point of view, with semi-frequent chapters written in Avery's point of view. I liked the idea of Avery being more like a new companion with interesting circumstances. Lias could spend time and learn about her like his other companions, as well as all the fun and deadly Inquisition business. I won't pretend this won't have a focus on Avery, because who wouldn't want to focus on their own character?
> 
> Hopefully not all my notes will be this long... I feel like I rambled a bit. I'll talk a bit more about uploads after the next chapter. Feel free to ask me about anything! I'm nervous about posting my work after these years of little to no writing, but I hope some else enjoys it!


	2. A Lone Apostate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas joins the humans in order to learn about their prisoner with the strange magic on his hand.

It had been day and a half since the Breach, as the people in Haven had started calling it, appeared in the sky. Nearly an entire day since the explosion at the conclave. Any chances at peace between the mages and Templars were turned to ash. The damage to the veil was more than could even be anticipated. Spirits were being forced through, the process corrupting so many and nothing could be done to help them. There was so much unnecessary suffering.

Solas had approached an Inquisition camp set up near the Breach. He had some time trying to examine the situation by himself without alerting them, but despite their helplessness and fear, the humans maintained a strong presence around the area. Even though it was a lost cause, many of them died in order to stem the tide of demons. A few mages tried their hands at closing the rifts, but their efforts were in vain. Sadly, Solas’ attempts went no better.

Listening in on soldiers near the forward camp sparked a tiny flame of hope. A survivor, they said. One that fell out of the Fade with a strange mark of magic on his hand. It was curious that it was qunari, of all things, but that was not the important information to focus on at the moment. There was a chance, and he could not let it slip through his fingers. 

And so a lone elven apostate approached the camp.

They took his staff almost immediately, as if he needed it. They did not try to bind him, at least. Scouts took him to a red-haired human woman. Her gaze was steely, and it didn’t take much to realize this woman was dangerous. However, she seemed to be able to see reason. She was also desperate. They all were. 

The woman, Sister Leliana, asked him many questions about himself, about his motivations, about his knowledge. His answers were satisfactory, and his knowledge even more so. The sister wrote a letter and sent him on his way to Haven with a small group of scouts. When they arrived, he was promptly taken to the Seeker, Cassandra. She read the sister’s letter, and after a few more questions—and threats—of her own, led him into the chantry dungeons. 

“The magic on his hand is… unlike anything we’ve ever seen,” she said as they made their way down the stairs. “It… flares… when the Breach does.”

That was hardly surprising. 

“We’ve had healers and mages trying to figure out more about it, but none of them have the slightest clue what it is,” she continued as they neared the end of the hallway. “It is obviously causing him pain, and his health is… deteriorating.”

Also not surprising. The magic on his hand was far more than a mortal could handle. That the qunari was even still alive at all is unexpected. Though that could quickly change. 

In the middle of the room of holding cells laid the qunari. He was on a cot, his legs hanging off the end, and his head was turned at an odd angle to accommodate his horns. His already grey skin looked far too pale, and he was covered with a sheen of sweat. His breathing was short, shallow.

“That’s to say the least,” the bearded man kneeling next to the qunari said to the Seeker. “I can’t keep him stabilized long before the bloody thing acts up again. The fever’s not going down, and he can’t swallow any potion.”

“This is our healer, Adan,” Cassandra said. “He’s been trying to keep the qunari alive.”

“I am _not_ a healer.”

“You are the closest we have now,” she said gravely. “This is Solas. He’s going to try to study the mark.”

The tone in the Seeker’s voice made it obvious she did not like the idea, if it were not already obvious before. 

The human man eyed Solas skeptically, then turned back to look at the Seeker. She gave him a short nod. 

“Well, you best get to it,” Adan said. “Maker only knows how much longer I can keep him alive.”

That seemed to alarm the Seeker. “Is it that bad? Will he not recover?”

“Perhaps if I can stabilize the mark, he could have a better chance,” Solas suggested. He kneeled by the qunari’s left side.

“Is really the same magic that made the Breach?”

“I cannot say for certain, but it does seem so. I will have to study it further before I can say anything more.”

The Seeker looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but she merely nodded in response before turning back to the other man. 

“He hasn’t woken, or said anything?” she asked. There was little hope in her voice. She probably already knew the answer. 

Adan shook his head. “He hasn’t made more than a whimper when the… ‘mark’ flares up. Both have been dead asleep otherwise, since you brought them in.”

Solas, who had already begun trying to study the qunari’s hand, paused at the man’s words. He looked up to the Seeker and repeated, “Both?”

She furrowed her brow and gestured towards a cell to her right. “There were two survivors. They came out of the rift together.”

Solas stood once again to look at the other survivor in the cell. It was dimly lit, but he could see inside well enough. There was a girl—a woman sleeping on a cot. She was lying perfectly still, which was partly why he had failed to notice her before. Her head was turned away, and all he could see was her far-too-pale skin and a waterfall of blonde hair hanging off the side of the cot.

“I was not aware there was another survivor,” he said slowly. Truly, he had not heard anything beyond the mention of the qunari bearing the mark.

Adan, who had started to gather his supplies, looked back at the woman on the cot. “Haven’t had much time to check on her,” he said. “Few cuts and bruises. Looks malnourished, maybe a bit dehydrated, but I didn’t see anything serious. Just hasn’t woken up.”

“As far as we can tell, she doesn’t bear the magic like the qunari,” the Seeker stated, then the paused, looking uncertainly towards Solas. “Does she?”

Solas regarded the woman in the cell for a moment, trying to sense any magic. There was something there, quite interesting, but he didn’t feel the same magic that cause the Breach.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I do not believe so. I will take a proper look later, but I must look at the mark first. He is running out of time.”

“Of course,” Cassandra said with another curt nod. “Adan will be taking a break and resupplying. I will return after I’ve taken care of a few more things.”

They left Solas in the room with the survivors and two guards. He kneeled back down beside the qunari and began to work. 

* * *

Cassandra returned some time later. She had a grim face, and the hand resting on the hilt of her sword was tense. Solas was still kneeling beside the qunari, his hand wrapped around the hand marked with magic. 

“What have you found, mage?” the Seeker asked in a harsh tone. Solas was unsure if it was the stress of the situation, her distrust of an apostate, or if that was just her way of speaking. He turned to address the Seeker with a weary look on his face. 

“The mark is of the same magic as the Breach, as suspected,” Solas stated plainly. “The magic is unstable. It is trying to expand, to grow in time with the fluctuations of the Breach. It is killing him.”

Cassandra’s face tensed into a scowl, and she made a noise of contempt. “So he’s going to die?” she asked.

Solas did not answer the question. He turned his gaze down at the sleeping man, and Cassandra’s followed. The qunari’s face had a frown, and his eyebrows were a bit furrowed, but he wasn’t responsive. There was a good chance he would die before the night is through if nothing was done. 

“I may be able to slow the progress of the magic spreading. It may allow him to recover long enough to awaken,” Solas said slowly, looking back up to the Seeker. 

“Do you think the mark could be used to stop this?” she asked. The Seeker looked him straight in the eye, searching for an honest answer.

“Perhaps. I will need to study it further,” Solas said. “Before that, however, I would have to ensure that he still lives.”

“Then do it,” she commanded. The Seeker made to turn away, but stopped and looked back at him. “I will have a supply of lyrium sent down.”

“It would be best to send a healer back as well,” said Solas. “I cannot maintain his health while I am attempting this.”

“Very well,” Cassandra said with a nod. Solas thought that would be the end of it, but she remained staring at the qunari’s glowing hand. “To step out of the Fade… What about the other one?”

“I have not had the chance to look…” Solas trailed off. He turned his head to look at the other survivor in the cell nearby. The human survivor had been quiet enough to not be noticed, almost forgotten. She had been sleeping the last time anyone had checked, perhaps two or three hours ago. Everyone in the room—the guards, Cassandra, and Solas—had been entirely focused on the large qunari with wildly unstable magic on his hand. 

When Solas looked over, he was surprised when his eyes met the woman’s in the cell. She sat stock-still on the cot, her legs crossed over each other, back straight with her hands resting on her knees. Her blonde hair, longer than he’d realized, was down to her hips and in a mess of tangles. Her face was hard to see in the shadows of the cell, but she seemed calm. Silently and passively watching them.

The Seeker followed his line of site and gasped. 

“She is awake!” she yelled at the guards. 

The guards entered her cell and grabbed her arms. Her expression didn’t change as she looked up at them, save for the slight raise of her eyebrows. They pulled at her arms, and she tried to stand up, but half way to standing the girl swayed and began to fall back down. The guards gripped their gloved hands tighter and carried her weight for her, though none too gently. She was all but dragged out of her cell and toward the center of the room, into the light and feet away from where Solas and Cassandra stood next to the qunari. 

Cassandra immediately stalked toward the woman, stopping within arm’s reach. The Seeker easily towered over the prisoner. Despite being human, the blonde woman was much shorter than the Seeker and her guards. She seemed to be the average height of modern elves, and her frame was almost as thin as an elven woman’s as well. She looked nowhere near as… hardy as other humans, and not only because she seemed to be starved thin. 

Solas could not see the Seeker’s face, but her posture suggested she was glaring down menacingly at the prisoner with her hand gripping her sword tightly. The prisoner stared at the Seeker for a moment, looking her over calmly, then she surveyed the room. She seemed unfazed by the Seeker’s rising irritation. Her eyes lingered on the qunari and the lightly glowing mark, a look of genuine curiosity in her eyes. Finally, she settled on Solas, scanning him the same way she did the Seeker. She locked gazes with him, and he tried not to give her any reaction. 

Now that she was in the light, staring at him, he noticed that her eyes were mismatched. Her right eye was a light blue; her left eye was mostly a bright green, not unlike the color of the Breach. The skin around the left eye was marred by three diagonal scars, like claws had cut through her skin. The one closest to her nose was light, barely notable, but the other two looked deeper and rougher. That she still had that eye at all should be impossible.

“You,” the Seeker growled, bring the girl’s attention slowly back to her. “Tell me what you know of this!” 

The Seeker’s passionate, and loud, demand garnered little reaction from the prisoner, save for the slight furrowing of her brow. She silently looked over to the qunari, then back to Seeker. She made no attempts to answer. The Seeker made a disgusted noise at the girl.

“Take her to the other room,” she ordered. While the guards dragged the girl out of the room and down the hall, Cassandra turned back to Solas. “Keep him alive.”

She turned away from Solas and the qunari, leaving him as two more guards came in to replace the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super nervous about writing these characters. Hell, I get nervous about writing my own characters ooc. If I'm going to keep going, I'll have to get over it, though. Also gonna have to get used to formatting these chapters...
> 
> I'm going to try to post longer chapters from now on, and hopefully not drag out the prologue for too long. Next chapters might feel a bit rough, since that's where I started to struggle, but I wanted to just keep going. Going ahead and posting this is meant to be a kick in the ass to keep myself writing and posting. The goal is to post a decently sized chapter every week. No particular day, since work keeps me busy most of the day, so it'll be whenever I can sit down and properly do it. 
> 
> Also, I'll keep adding tags as the story goes on. And if that big TO BE DETERMINED makes you nervous or looks weird, don't worry. I plan on talking about the romance aspect of the story after this prologue is over. I have a plan, but I also want opinions. Please hang in there with me!


	3. A Tranquil Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the prisoners is awake...

Cassandra’s lone interrogation went… not so well. 

The guards put the female prisoner in a chair facing the door in a smaller room near the main cells. It was being used as a small, makeshift office, but it was the only place to isolate the prisoner. They went back out to guard the door and left Cassandra alone with the prisoner. Cassandra tried to calm herself before starting the questioning. She was angry and grieving, but she needed to find answers.

The girl still had that frustratingly calm look on her face. She examined the room as much as she could without turning around. She seemed to have a particular interest in the small bookshelf to her left. Her head tilted one way to try to read the titles, then the other way. She seemed to not care about paying attention to the intimidating Seeker quietly seething just a few feet in front of her. 

“Tell me what happened,” Cassandra demanded. It probably wasn’t the approach Leliana would have taken, but taking the direct approach was always easiest. 

…Unless the other person didn’t answer. The girl turned her attention back to Cassandra, but she only gave a tranquil stare as an answer. 

“What happened at the Conclave?” Cassandra asked.

Still, there was no reply, only a slight tilt of her head. Cassandra asked more questions, _How did you survive? Who are you? Who is the qunari? Do you know about the mark on his hand?_ Her frustration and anger were mounting again. She paced around the room, and the prisoner just followed her quietly with her eyes. In a fit of frustration, Cassandra slammed her hand on the desk behind the girl. This elicited a reaction at least, as the girl recoiled from the noise and narrowed her eyes at Cassandra.

“Answer me!” Cassandra demanded. She continued to only stare, and Cassandra was about to give up, when the prisoner finally opened her mouth to speak.

She did not speak in the Common tongue. In fact, Cassandra couldn’t tell what language she was speaking. Her voice was hoarse, but still sounded calm and flat. She said what seemed like a sentence or two and looked at Cassandra expectantly. It seemed like she was asking a question. Cassandra glared back to her in hopes she would begin speaking in the common tongue, but the girl only sighed softly and turned her attention back to the books. 

Cassandra considered trying to press the girl to see if she truly could not speak the common tongue. With a long sigh, she moved away from the girl and towards the door. There was no point in trying to press the issue by herself. She had a scout send word to Leliana as soon as the girl woke, so the bard was on her way back to Haven already. Cassandra would wait until then. Leliana was much more… adept at getting people to talk. 

So, the guards brought the girl back to her cell to wait for the Nightingale to return.

* * *

The prisoner sat calmly on her cot ever since they returned her to her cell. Solas focused mainly on his goal of saving the qunari, but anytime he turned his attention back to her, she would either be watching him or the guards with a sort of passive curiosity. Adan returned with fresh supplies shortly before dawn. With him was an assistant, a waifish human woman. She brought food for the female prisoner, which looked to be just water and a small bowl of… porridge, perhaps? 

The guards opened the cell door enough to slide it through and slammed it shut again. When the food arrived, she seemed to eye it warily. Perhaps she didn’t trust them not to poison her. From what the guards said, she doesn’t speak the trade tongue, so it was understandable to be wary. Her baser needs must have won out in the end, however, because she slid down onto the floor from her cot to sit in front of the tray of food. She looked almost confused as she stirred the contents of the bowl, then picked up the tankard of water and sniffed it. She must not have found anything amiss, because she began eating.

With Adan’s assistance caring for the qunari’s body, Solas was free to focus solely on the mark. He sat back and allowed himself to meditate, hoping to connect to the mark in some way. It was quiet, save from rustles of movement and Adan’s occasional muttering.

**…**

It was not clear how much time had passed, but Solas was startled out his meditation. He was not sure what had alerted him at first, until he heard a sound from the cell behind him. He turned to see the prisoner knelt over the bucket in her cell. The poor thing was shivering and retching up the food she was given. For a moment, Solas was alarmed and wondered if the humans truly had poisoned a defenseless prisoner. 

“Maker, what now?” Adan muttered under his breath. He moved towards the girl’s cell and motioned at the guards. “Well, open the door. I’m not going to stand here listening to her vomit.”

The guards looked warily between the cell and the healer. “Are you sure, ser? She could be—“

“Look at the girl. She can barely get off the floor,” Adan snapped. “I think one of us can handle her if something happens.”

True enough. The human had stopped retching, but she was still bent over and shaking. There was always the chance she was faking it, but her skin was far too pale to truly be healthy. Should she attack, it was doubtful she could overpower a man Adan’s size, let alone the guards and Solas. That is, if she attacked physically. There was the possibility that this prisoner was a mage. There had not been an opportunity thus far to even study the human, with all the effort he had to put into taming the mark. Perhaps it was something he should mention, but until he could confirm there was no reason to give them more bias against her.

One of the guards hesitantly opened the cell door, and the other kept a hand on the hilt of her sword. The prisoner shakily pushed hair out of her face and turned her head enough to watch Adan enter the cell. She looked confused, with her brow furrowed, and her face was noticeably ashen even in the dim light. Adan approached her, kneeling next to her.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, alright?” Adan said. A fruitless attempt since the girl could not understand him, but she stayed still.

She warily watched him slowly reach towards her, but allowed it. When his hand touched her neck, there were two heartbeats of silence where her eyes widened. Suddenly, she jerked away from him. Still on the floor, she pushed herself back on unsteady arms and retreated until her back hit the wall. She was saying something in a foreign tongue, repeating the same word or phrase two or three times. Adan raised his hands in front of him, to show he meant no harm, and took a chance to inch forward.

“Not trying to hurt you,” he said calmly. It looked very much like someone trying to sooth a frightened animal. The guards looked unsure of what to do.

The girl shook her head. Her gaze remained on the ground, enough to see the man but not look directly at him. She said a few words in her language again, but it fell on deaf ears. When he moved his foot forward she looked straight at him.

“Do not touch me!” she said.

Her words were thick with panic and she had a heavy accent. There was no mistaking it, however. She spoke the common tongue. 

“Just tryin’ to check and see if you’re alright,” Adan answered back a bit harshly. The human didn’t seem to be very talented at comfort. His words seemed to make things worse. She just kept shaking her head.

“Please do not touch me,” she said again, softly.

Everyone was struck silent for a moment, staring at the shaking prisoner. Adan was the first to move, lowering his hands and backing out of the cell. With distance finally between them, the girl lowered her head and curled into herself. One guard immediately locked the door back while the other ran to find the Seeker.

* * *

Leliana had the girl brought to the room in the back of the chantry as soon as she returned from the forward camp. Just in time, perhaps. Cassandra was ready to storm the dungeon and throttle her when the guards reported the girl spoke common. It took convincing to get the Seeker to let Leliana handle it.

The girl was brought in and shoved in a chair. The large table in the room was pushed back against the wall in the back to give the prisoner center stage. Cassandra stood guarding the door, quiet like they had agreed. It didn’t stop her seething rage and murderous glare. Leliana chose to stand in the shadows, unbeknownst to the prisoner. It was easy enough with her training, and it allowed her to observe the girl.

All accounts from Cassandra and the guards described the girl as being eerily calm about everything. They worried that maybe she was possessed, or something else were wrong with her. It was possible, considering she went physically into the Fade. Cassandra said she suspected the girl could be a mage. Leliana had a feeling that wasn’t the case, however. Something she would just have to find out in time.

The girl was sitting quietly in her seat, with her arms bound behind her. She didn’t struggle against the bindings, nor was she looking around for a way out. She just sat there, staring blankly ahead. It didn’t seem anything like the curious nature Cassandra said she displayed after she first woke up. Perhaps it was due to her realizing she was caught in a lie. Or, perhaps the girl was still feeling unwell. Adan said it wasn’t likely that she was seriously ill. It was more likely that eating food after going without made her stomach uneasy. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d seen it happen. 

Leliana stepped forward, into the girl’s line of sight. She looked up slowly, and she seemed to begin to focus. Her eyebrows quirked up when she looked at Leliana’s face, almost like recognition, but she said nothing. 

She would start simple and straightforward, but perhaps with a bit more tact than Cassandra. “You can understand me, can’t you?” Leliana asked. 

“Yes,” the prisoner answered. There was hardly any hesitation, and her voice held little emotion. 

Cassandra made an irritated noise, drawing the girl’s attention. “Then why did you lie?” she asked, none too kindly. 

“Lie?” the girl questioned back.

“You pretended you didn’t know what I was saying!” Cassandra yelled. She stepped forward, but stopped herself when Leliana raised her hand.

“I did not understand…” She looked to the ground again, staring at Leliana’s shoes. 

Cassandra was ready to begin yelling again, until Leliana gave her a pointed glare. The Seeker’s brash nature did make things difficult sometimes, and everyone was on edge. Still, this prisoner didn’t seem to be the type you could get anywhere with by yelling and using threats. It seemed her answers were going to be short.

She obviously understood common. No one could seriously claim to have just suddenly learned it over the course of half a day. So, it was something else.

“What didn’t you understand?” Leliana asked.

“Why you insisted on using this language,” she answered, looking at Cassandra. “Why you insisted on me using this language.”

“What other language would we use?” Leliana asked. The girl turned her attention to Leliana again.

“I do not know,” she said. “I just did not see why I would have to speak it as well.”

It was not really an answer, and it didn’t make a lot of sense. The girl spoke a foreign language that neither Cassandra or one of Leliana’s scouts couldn’t identify. Her accent was very noticeable and unidentifiable, and there was a stilted cadence to her tone. She spoke properly, though a bit stiff. It wasn’t a case of her misunderstanding what was said, or not being able to say what she meant.

“I see,” Leliana said, though she didn’t. “What is your name?”

“Avery.”

There was a slight hesitation when she answered, but nothing in her posture or expression said she was lying. Then again, they didn’t say much of anything.

“Avery,” Leliana repeated. “Do you know where you are?”

She looked around the room for the first time, mismatched eyes roaming over the walls and bookshelves. Not gleaming anything from the little she saw, she answered, “No.”

“Can you tell us what happened at the Conclave?” Cassandra butted in. This time she ignored Leliana’s glare.

“No,” Avery answered.

“And why not?” Cassandra asked through gritted teeth. At least she seemed to be trying to calm herself.

“I do not… remember.” Her brows were furrowed and she had a slight frown. The most notable emotion Leliana’s seen on the girl so far. 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” the Seeker asked harshly. 

“The memories are not there,” she stated simply.

A lackluster answer or a rewording… Perhaps she thought something had mistranslated, or was she simply being sarcastic? The answer managed to grate on the Seeker’s nerves, anyhow. She was practically seething, glaring at the girl like she was trying to set her on fire. Leliana gripped Cassandra’s arm tightly to get her attention. Five seconds of serious eye contact later, Cassandra relented and stalked back to her position beside the door. It was best if Leliana handled the questions after all. 

The rest of the interrogation was marginally more calm, but not entirely helpful. Avery answered every question thrown her way, even if it was just with one word. Leliana could feel frustration rising in herself, but she tried her best to push it down. 

“Do you know the qunari?”

“No.”

“Do you recognize the mark on his hand?”

“No.”

“Do you know how he got it?”

“I do not know.”

“Do you know what happened to the Divine?”

“Which Divine?”

That in particular set Cassandra off again.

“Divine Justinia!” she yelled suddenly at the girl, causing her flinch almost imperceptivity. “The Most Holy, head of the Chantry! Because of _you—_ “

_“Cassandra!”_ Leliana cut in. 

They exchanged steely glares for a few heartbeats before the Seeker turned on her heel and stormed out of the door. Leliana couldn’t blame her for her anger. They did not have the time to play games like this to get answers. More demons kept coming, and more soldiers were dying by the hour. Fereldan’s reinforcements were on their way, but there was word of rifts all over the countryside between Denerim and the Frostbacks. They could be overrun before anyone arrived. 

The Nightingale sighed heavily and turned back to the prisoner. She was so small, and so thin. Her hair was unkempt and dirty, as was the rest of her. Her skin was so sickly pale. She had a somewhat dazed and unfocused look about her. Appearances could be deceiving, but it was hard to believe this girl was responsible for so much destruction. If anything, she was just a pawn who lived past her use. Still, they would find out what she knows, one way or the other. 

When Leliana turned back to Avery, she had her eyes closed. “Why does it feel so heavy?” she asked quietly. If she wasn’t speaking common, Leliana would think she was just talking to herself. 

Before she could ask what Avery was talking about, the door was thrown open. Avery’s eyes snapped open. A scout stood in the doorway, looking out of breath. “There are demons, not far from Haven,” he reported between breaths. “They’re closing in. We need to pilgrims inside the walls.” 

That was the end of that interrogation. Cassandra left ahead with the scout, and Leliana escorted the prisoner and her guards back to the dungeon before joining the defenses. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... was the part I struggled on. Can you tell? I was considering just cutting it all, but in the end I wanted to keep it. I'll talk about the reasons why at the end of the prologue, so I hope you can forgive me if you didn't enjoy this chapter. I will probably be updating again later this week or this weekend, considering I wasn't entirely happy with it.
> 
> Should I hurry and push through the prologue? This is meant to be a longer story, and once we get to actual game-play, I'll push it along faster. I'm still writing a little ahead of what's released, so I'll go ahead and warn you there's at least another long chapter before Adaar wakes up. I've just really always liked to imagine what life was like those few days before the PC wakes up. Varric mentions briefly about how scared, desperate, and hopeless everyone in Haven felt. Could you imagine?


	4. Human Justice

Night fell on his second day in Haven, yet Solas was no closer to finding a solution. The mark of magic on the qunari was impossible to separate, so far as he could tell. Every time he attempted to remove it, the magic only seemed to ingratiate itself more into its host. The wards he put around it around it seemed to slow the progression, but with each fluctuation of the Breach, the magic would act in kind. If the Breach was not stabilized soon, the qunari would be consumed. No mortal could survive the mark, but he had hoped to at least delay the inevitable. 

Solas studied the mark for hours. When he slept, he continued to search for a solution in the Fade. There were no spirits to give him council so close to the Breach. They would not risk being so close to it, for fear of being pulled through. He did not have time to seek them out, where ever they may be. 

So, Solas sat on the floor of the cold chantry dungeon while the rest of Haven tried to rest. The town was fit to burst with people, with all the pilgrims moved inside the walls. The soldiers stood sentry to watch for more demons, and many were injured or killed during the earlier attack. As it was, only one guard kept watch inside the dungeon. There were two more stationed not far down the hallway, but it left the cells especially silent. 

The only noises came from the prisoner himself. Since he stepped out of the Fade, the qunari spent the better part of the first day unresponsive and deathly still. The stillness soon broke as his fever rose. From Solas’ own observations and the reports of the healer, responses to the flaring mark went from almost imperceptible winces to spasms and cries of pain. The qunari, perhaps delirious from his fever, apparently muttered nonsense occasionally. He only recently calmed from thrashing in his sleep. Such a thing would have been troublesome from any patient, but holding down a fully grown qunari man proved especially difficult. Solas was told that one soldier was rewarded with a blackened eye for her effort, and he was grateful to not have been there at the time. 

Thankfully, the patient had calmed. He still whimpered in pain occasionally, and his skin glistened with sweat, but his fever to was starting to break. There was little more he could do physically to help. Solas decided to attempt to find the qunari in the Fade, to see if he could influence him to awaken from the other side of the Veil. He had doubts about his chances of success, but he had to try. 

Solas sat near the qunari, legs crossed and leaning against one of the pillars in the room. The lone guard sat in a chair near the door, arms crossed and head bowed. A man who looked so worn down was probably not fit for guard duty, but their options were probably limited. The other human in the room, the prisoner, was presumably sleeping. Her cot had been replaced with a dilapidated bed roll at some point since he left hours ago, and she sat much like he did, with her legs crossed and her back leaned against the wall. It was defensive posture, looking deceptively vulnerable but leaving less openings for attack than normal. 

He closed his eyes and began to will his spirit to enter the Fade. He could feel a light prodding and tugging on the veil from the human’s cell. It seemed like a curious examination, but he didn’t want to arouse suspicion from the guard or put the girl on edge by calling attention to it. There was no doubt she was a mage, then. Solas made a mental note to investigate to determine if he should inform the Seeker. It was a regrettable action he would have to take to earn their trust, even though it may damn the girl. Perhaps it would be unimportant, if he could not find a way to wake the qunari that bore his magic. 

* * *

A sudden flux of magic and the shout from the guard brought Solas suddenly out of the Fade. It took him a moment to make sense of what was going on. The guard was wide awake, shakily holding a sword pointed toward the female prisoner, but not close enough to actually threaten her. The prisoner was standing, leaning against the bars of her cell with an arm sticking out. She was focusing, holding a spell. Kneeling by the qunari was another human, Adan’s waifish assistant, paralyzed in place. 

“Y-you’re a mage!” the guard shrieked. He waved his sword towards the girl and pointed toward the frozen woman with his other hand. “L-let her g-go! Stop or I-I’ll—”

The young guard didn’t finish his vague threat as the girl lowered her hand. A paralysis spell such as that should not have been too taxing, but she sagged against the bars slightly. It made him wonder how taxing the last few days had been for her as well. He also wondered if he should dispel her magic. It would be a simple enough task, but there was still the question of why she would attack a healer’s assistant. It made for a poor escape attempt. 

“Please,” she said, in a soft, strained voice to neither one of them in particular. “It will not hold long.” 

“Wh-what?” the guard asked.

She raised a shaky hand again, causing the guard to flinch back. Instead of trying to cast another spell as the guard feared, she simply pointed at the girl. The guard looked confused, glancing between the back of the frozen woman and the mage in the cell. She locked eyes with Solas, the closer of the two to the woman, staring at him with an insistent gaze. He would have to be the one to find out her reason, it would seem. 

Walking closer to get a proper look at the paralyzed woman made the reason clear. Her hand was gripped around the handle of a dagger, which she had hidden beneath a cloth she brought in with the other healing supplies. It was visible enough that it was highly possible that the prisoner could have seen it from her cell, had she been watch closely, as she obviously had. Quite possibly, she would have been the only one who could have seen it, as the woman had taken efforts to keep her actions hidden from the guard. Even Solas wouldn’t have seen what was happening, had he actually been paying attention. It wasn’t so strange for a healer to need a knife, but the obvious attempt to hide it and the twisted scowl frozen on her face were a clear show of her intentions. Had the prisoner not stopped her…

The guard had taken a few shaky steps towards the scene. He was swinging his head back and forth from the prisoner to the healer, seemingly unsure of what he should be keeping an eye on. The prisoner was still slumped against the bars, watching everything with a weary gaze. The guard finally seemed to notice the dagger, but the furrow of his brow showed he was confused by it. 

“Perhaps we should call another guard in before I dispel the magic on her,” Solas suggested. 

The guard still looked confused for a moment before the obvious seemed to dawn on him. “R-right!” he exclaimed. “Kendrick should be just down the hall!” 

He just stood there for another moment, just staring at the dagger. Solas had to loudly clear his throat to get his attention again. The boy jumped and turned heel to run out of the door. He could be heard running all the down the hall, and all the way back just a few minute later, followed by another guard. This one was a human man as well, and he looked just as worn out as the rest of the soldiers around Haven. Solas wondered if perhaps he had nodded off as well. Any guard with an ounce of awareness would have heard the shouting. It was hard to tell if they had filled ranks with mostly incompetent recruits, or if the situation with the Breach was keeping any more talented or experienced soldiers occupied. 

”Andraste’s ass,” the new human guard muttered.

The soldiers seemed unsure what to do in the face of this magical paralysis, and they looked towards Solas for some sort of guidance. Solas considered what would be a better option. He could easily dispel the magic himself, perhaps putting himself in a better light. However, were the prisoner to do it herself, there was a possibility they would not punish her as harshly. There were many other opportunities available for him to gain trust, or he could at least create some. The prisoner, on the other hand, would be stuck in a cell, most likely mistreated, until they ultimately decided to execute her. Or worse. 

Solas looked over to the girl, to see what she intended to do. Her gaze caught his, and she seemed uncertain. When he made no move to act, she moved her weary gaze to the soldiers and straightened her posture. 

“I would suggest holding her… just in case,” she advised the pair. 

The soldiers seemed confused at first. Then they looked toward Solas, perhaps wondering if they should do as she suggested or if it were some sort of trap. When he motioned toward the paralyzed woman to urge them along, both soldiers moved to either side of her kneeling form. They looked towards Solas again, waiting for him to dispel the magic. When he did not immediately move from his relaxed stance, with his hands behind his back, the new guard scowled. 

“Hurry it up, mage,” the human growled. Incompetent and rude. A charming combination. 

“One moment,” answered the soft voice of the prisoner in his stead. Her arm was stretched out again, and with a flourish of her hand the woman was free again. 

The guards hardly had time to be surprised before things got lively. The woman, who had been aware of what was happening the whole time, knew she had been caught possibly trying to assassinate the marked prisoner. Luckily the original guard had a better hold than rude one, as she yanked one arm free and made one last desperate attempt to plunge the knife into the qunari. Solas used a small amount of force magic to knock the knife out of her hand. The rude guard seemed to regain his bearings after that. The two managed to haul her to her feet and drag her a few feet from her potential victim. She did not go quietly, however. 

“LET ME GO,” she screamed. “LET ME GO! LET ME FINISH IT!” There were a few more demands like this made while she kicked and thrashed, knocking over the healing supplies and even jostling the qunari’s cot. The screaming dissolved into sobs once she was distanced from him. “I-if we kill him, th-this will all stop!,” she wailed. “It’s his fault, so why should he live?! If I kill him, this will stop!” 

It was a very desperate and simplistic notion. Any mage would know that killing the qunari wouldn’t close the breach in the veil. The fact was that the mark on the qunari’s hand was the only hope anyone had for closing it. Worse, though, was the knowledge that a majority of the village of Haven shared this woman’s opinion. Few would go against their Chantry to act on it, but they were getting more and more desperate as time went on. If what Solas had heard was true, then this wasn’t even the first attempt on the qunari’s life, just the closest. The Nightingale would have to tighten her security. 

“Perhaps the Seeker would like to deal with her,” Solas suggested once the cries grew quieter. 

The rude guard shot him suspicious glare, but the other only nodded. That one was easily swayed and quick to trust an unknown elven mage. He took Solas’ advice and began to pull the woman towards the door, and his fellow followed. The rude one apparently could not leave without trying to menacingly command Solas to stay put in the dungeons. 

There was quiet in the room again. The prisoner moved away from the bars of her cell to sit back on top of her bed roll. Alone in a room with one mage and an unconscious prisoner so late at night, anyone would consider it a prime opportunity to escape. It would be a foolish notion, of course, should Solas decide to stop her, but there could be merit in letting her escape this Chantry prison. This human seemed resigned to stay imprisoned. She settled back into her previous position, closing her eyes once again. 

“Even if you helped, they will not treat you kindly now that know for sure that you are a mage,” Solas warned her. 

She opened her eyes again to stare at him. It seemed she was surprised to be spoken to, if he was reading her unusually passive face correctly. 

“I am already in prison,” she said softly, loud enough for Solas to hear, but perhaps not loud enough for most humans. 

“They can and have done far worse to mages than just imprisonment,” said Solas, an unexpected sharpness in his tone, even to him. 

“I suppose that is true,” she said. 

It was such a strange accent, now that he had heard more of it. He had never heard it before in his travels in Thedas, and not even in his travels in the Fade. She spoke few words, somewhat slowly. She took care to think over what she said, perhaps unsure of herself. How new was this language to her that she would be fluent, but so uneasy with it? It would stand that she didn’t communicate this way too often. Could this girl really be part of the plan that destroyed the Conclave? There was no way she could harness the power necessary to do that alone, no mortal could. 

Solas took one more look at the qunari, to see that his condition was the same. Then he moved to stand in front of the prisoner’s cell. He stopped a short distance from the bars and assumed a somewhat relaxed, but still guarded posture, not dissimilar to her own. She did not seem to respond well the Seeker’s threats or the Nightingale’s precise and relentless questioning, if his information was true. Perhaps less formal questioning from someone as unassuming as an elven apostate would yield more results. She already seemed to be responding, having straightened her posture to show her attention, even if she was still sitting down. 

“That spell seemed to tire you,” Solas began. Perhaps she would also find comfort from the sympathy of a fellow mage. 

“I had never tried before,” she said. “I am not used to it.” 

“You never used a paralysis spell before?” Solas asked. If so, it was a dangerous thing to try, with a dozens different ways it could have gone wrong for the misguided healer’s assistant. 

“That too,” she said. 

_What could that mean?_ he wondered.

“Why did you save the qunari?” he asked instead. “I thought you did not know him.” 

She took a longer time to answer that question. Her gaze drifted to the qunari as she seemed to contemplate her answer. 

“He is important, is he not?” she finally asked. “You have been trying to heal him since I woke here, whenever that was…”

“Yes, I have,” he replied. He was not sure yet if he could say the qunari was important or not, as he still had not given up a small sliver of hope that he could take back the magic anchored to the qunari’s hand. 

“I am still not clear on what is happening, but…” Her gaze met Solas’ again, an uncertainty coloring it. “I do not believe he is guilty. I am not sure why.” 

“You don’t know for sure if he was responsible or not?” he asked. “Do you not remember what happened?” 

She shook her head. He had heard as much, but it was hard to believe she remembered nothing of what happened. It could be a ploy to garner sympathy or sow doubt. The humans certainly seemed to believe it was just a refusal to answer on her part. Though, the more he thought about it, the more plausible it did seem. For a mortal to be pulled through a rift, it’s strange enough that they both survived. There was no reason to expect for either of them to return completely unscathed. Would it be a complication or a boon? Only time could tell. 

“The magic… The _mark_ on his hand,” she started, lifting her own left hand, “it is the only hope of… helping these people?” 

She spoke more cautiously than before. Her tone was so uncertain. 

“It is possible, should he awaken,” he answered almost as cautiously. 

She nodded, and fell quiet again. He wondered if that was all he would be getting out of her. Overall, she gave him nothing, as it seemed she honestly knew nothing. 

“Where am I?” she asked, breaking the silence. 

“You are in the dungeons, underneath the Chantry,” he answered. When she still looked confused he clarified, “In Haven, the village below the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” 

“Haven?” she repeated, still confused. “Haven… that is…”

She stopped speaking any further as the unmistakable sounds of armor-clad soldiers echoed down the hallway. Solas moved away from the cell, back to the qunari in the middle of the room. He kneeled down to busy himself with cleaning the mess the would-be assassin left behind. She leaned back against the wall, appearing unaware, but eyes still open. 

The door was slung open unnecessarily violently. A Templar dressed in full armor entered, followed by a new green-clad soldier and a scout. The Templar carried chains in her hands. She marched towards the prisoner’s cell with purpose, only stopping when she passed Solas. 

“You are dismissed, _apostate_ ,” she barked, so assured of her authority over the elf. 

The scout stepped forward, offering a politer tone. “I’ve been asked to escort you to your cabin, ser, if you don’t mind. It’s getting late, so perhaps you could return in the morning.” 

Everything about the situation irked Solas. The rude dismal, the somewhat patronizing request, and the mere presence of the Templar. He thought it a small mercy they didn’t send one before, but it seems the confirmed mage prisoner would make that impossible. 

It was wiser to go along with it calmly, not matter how irritated it made him. The mage prisoner would have to face the humans’ idea of justice alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, two weeks late with this shit chapter. Thanks for waiting. Sorry if there were any typos or weird grammar errors! I've been trying to catch them, but there's always one or two that sneaks up on you. I'm gonna have to make, like, a schedule. It'll probably help a lot.  
> Anyway, there should just be one more chapter before we're officially at the start of the prologue. _Phew..._ Thanks to everyone for the encouragement. It really does mean a lot to me. I'll try to move at a pace I feel comfortable going forward, and I'll tell you if I ever need to take a short break to work things out.  
> Feel free to check out my [Tumblr](http://apatheticallyawful.tumblr.com/) if you're interested! I reblog Dragon Age stuff often, but it's mainly a lot of shitposts that made me laugh. You can also message me there if you like! I'm more likely to see it sooner.  
> OH! I almost forgot to ask. Would any of you be interested in me posting or linking artwork here? I've got some sketches right now, but I've recently bought a new tablet so I can make something nicer. What do you think?


	5. Plans

You could learn almost anything about a town by hanging around the local tavern for a few hours. It’s why Varric lived in one for so many years. You could meet the people, learn the names, and hear all the good gossip. There was also a merit in just watching people and feeling the mood they brought in. These days the mood was somewhere between utter hopelessness and barely-contained fear. Sometimes there was anger, but even that was just a way of coping with their fear. 

Troops were a staple, more than usual. There were many who were brought down from the mountain to be patched up and were due to head back up the mountain in the morning. Some were barely even fit for duty, and none of them wanted to jump back into the fight. There was also more than one raw recruit who was being sent to the forward camp. 

The situation seemed like it was getting more dire by the hour. There were more reports of soldier deaths, more reports of bodies found after the explosion, and more reports of rifts and demons. Even the most non-magic dwarf could tell that the Breach was growing. To say that things had gone to shit felt like an understatement. 

The tavern was a good place to hear news from the loose-lipped soldiers and gossiping servants. From the last two nights, Varric had heard all sorts of rumors, and most of them centered around the two prisoners in the dungeons beneath the Chantry. It was understandable for them to be the center of everyone’s attention. In less than two hours after they were brought into the Haven, most of town was certain the Breach had been their fault. The qunari was blamed because word got out about the weird magic on his hand. The human was at fault because, well, she was alive, and the Divine wasn’t. She was doubly at fault when two guards came in the night before and told everyone she was definitely a mage. 

The most popular rumors were theories about who they were and why they destroyed the Conclave. One theory was that the human was a Tevinter mage with a qunari slave, who ordered him to destroy the Temple and any chance at peace. With the Divine and so many high-ranked members of the Chantry dead, the south would be in chaos, which was exactly what Tevinter wanted. There were also some people who thought she was a crazy mage who just wanted to destroy the Chantry like Anders, only on a much larger and ridiculous scale. Second most popular theory was similar yet reversed. The Qunari wanted to sow discord throughout the south, so they sent and agent and a human convert to destroy the Chantry hierarchy to make things easier when they sent an invasion force to conquer all of Thedas. 

There were plenty of people calling for a public execution of both of them. There was a lawful few who demanded they be taken to Orlais for trial and then publicly executed. Others less convinced of their guilt were just too terrified to even worry about those things. There would still be a giant hole in the sky, those people would argue. 

Varric had also heard, with a little coaxing, a few plans the Seeker and the Nightingale had in place. At the moment, the running plan was just to stem the tide of demons. As that was currently failing, they would eventually move on to the next plan. If the qunari ever woke up, the Seeker wanted to strong arm him into helping seal the Breach. If he didn’t, there would be a plan set in motion to evacuate all of the pilgrims in Haven to somewhere further away from danger, if somewhere like that actually existed. Soldiers would remain behind to keep killing demons, with the help of Fereldan if the king’s army ever made it to Haven. There wasn’t a clear hope either way. 

As desperately as Varric wanted to just call it hopeless and run back to Kirkwall, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave just yet. Even if the Seeker was too distracted to notice her favorite dwarven prisoner had turn tail and ran, there was no way of running from something like the Breach. Everyone in Thedas would have to face it eventually. The least he could do was try to help out when the people were evacuated. He could also gather information firsthand. 

The morning of the third day after the Breach, Varric decided to hang around the Chantry like some of the other civilians to gather information a little less discreetly. He quickly realized how indiscreet he would be when a saw that most of the crowds that used to be there were scared away. The Nightingale had set up a tent outside of the doors of the Chantry. All of her scouts would file in and out to give reports and receive orders. 

There was no way Leliana didn’t know he was there, overhearing some orders and listening to the gossiping Chantry sisters. She made no moves to chase him away, so he took it as an invitation to stay. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake up with a knife in his chest because of it. 

Things were fairly dull until mid-morning. There were just causality reports and requests from the front lines. Cassandra had stormed through, and thankfully she hadn’t taken notice of Varric hiding nearby. There were a few quite words exchanged with Leliana before she went into the Chantry. Presumably to check on the prisoners. It was not too long after that he heard her voice echoing inside the Chantry. 

“…been three days, and he is still not awake!” 

Her voice carried through the half-opened front door. Two Chantry Sisters scurried out, and a Mother quietly urged the other lingering Sisters to return to their duties. Varric, on the other hand, slipped inside to get a better view point. 

She was arguing, or yelling at, an elf who was leaving the dungeons. The apostate, if he had to guess. Varric had heard about him too. He’d even seen the elf around Haven a few times, going to and from the Chantry. Once or twice he was seen just staring at the Breach. 

“I have done all I can, Seeker,” the elf explained. “I can slow the mark from growing, but I can’t force him to wake if his body cannot handle it.” 

“If you can’t produce results, what was the point of us letting you near him?” Cassandra argued. “How do we know you are even trying to help the situation?” 

“Whether or not he wakes up depends entirely on him and your healer,” he answered, becoming more and more stone-faced the more the Seeker yelled. “I can assure you I want to help seal the Breach, but normal magic doesn’t effect the rifts, as you are aware. Your prisoner is our only hope.” 

“But you don’t even know if it will work, even if he does wake!” she shouts. 

“The mark _should_ be able to close the tears in the Veil,” he said, conviction in voice. “It would have to be tested on one of the rifts, but it is all we have at the moment. I have done all I can for him.” 

The Seeker made an impressive noise of disgust before storming out of the Chantry, probably to find a book to stab, if Varric had to guess. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t imagine the amount of stress she was under. Losing the Divine, not being at the Temple when everything went down, and then being the one that the people looked to when everything went to shit… Cassandra had a lot on her plate. Violence and blind accusations were probably the only way she knew how to handle stress. 

The elf watched her go, shaking his head slightly. Varric decided to slip out of the shadows and approach the elf. He didn’t look at all surprised to see the dwarf. 

“Don’t mind the Seeker,” Varric said. “Shouting and threating is the only way she knows how to communicate with people.” 

“It is not unexpected,” the elf said. 

“You look like you could use a drink.” 

* * *

Solas had been avoiding the tavern ever since he came to Haven. It was filled with desperate souls, many of which looked far too eager to blame anyone or anything for the devastation and suffering around them. Including... 

“So, you’re the elf that’s been helping the prisoner,” the dwarf began, once they had both settled down at a table with a cup full of questionable ale. 

“I offered my expertise, yes,” he tried to clarify. It would not be a surprise to Solas if the refugees in Haven had already pinned him as an accomplice. “My name is Solas.” 

“Varric Tethras,” he returned with a smirk. “Another one of the Seeker’s prisoners.” 

“And yet you sit freely in a tavern,” said Solas. 

“Yeah, well, the hole in the sky seemed to make everyone forget about the handsome dwarf,” Varric said while flashing what would surely be a charming smile, had weight of the subject matter not dimmed it. 

“How fortuitous for you, then, Master Tethras,” said Solas. 

“At this point, I think I would’ve preferred dealing with the Seeker,” Varric muttered. He took a long swig of his drink, letting the low murmurs of the other patrons bleed around them. 

It was still morning, though it did feel later to Solas. He woke early as he could, before sunrise, to visit the prisoner again. He had to wait some time more to get permission from the Nightingale to enter. It seemed they were taking the revelation of the human being a mage and a near-successful assassination attempt seriously. 

“All of Haven knows about the human waking up, but it seems like we’re not going to get so lucky with the qunari,” Varric finally said. 

The dwarf was an interesting character. He did not bother being subtle about digging for information. He was at least charismatic enough that it could be a viable strategy. 

“That depends on him,” Solas said warily. The conversation with the Seeker was still fresh on his mind. “I have done all I can for him. He could wake in a few hours… or perhaps not at all. The magic on his hand seems to be too powerful for even someone of his… physical disposition to handle. We are lucky he’s still alive at all.” 

“Well, shit…” Varric sighed and took another drink. “I’m guessing the girl won’t be able to do anything.” 

One human mage being capable of sealing the Breach without the aid of the mark… The notion amused him, in a macabre way. It was highly probable that even the qunari, were he to wake and able to control even a fraction of the power contained in his mark, would not be able to help mend the Veil. 

“She may be a mage, but she is weak at the moment,” Solas revealed. “From what I have gathered, she is either unwilling to cooperate, or she truly knows nothing.” 

“Which do you think is true?” Varric asked. 

“I cannot say for sure,” Solas deflected. 

“It’ll just be between us,” Varric promised. “You’re the only one who’s been down there, besides the guards and the Seeker and Nightingale. I’m interested to hear what you think.”

Solas considered what could be said. He could not say he knew for sure if they were at least partially guilty. There was no doubt in his mind they were not the ones responsible, but it would be hard to convince others. It would also not be a priority to him. 

“I do not believe either of them could be solely responsible for what happened at the Conclave, if at all,” he tried to explain instead. “The amount of power it would require is far beyond what one human woman could be capable, no matter how strong or talented she may be. The qunari has no magic in him, save what belongs to the mark. This was not something they could have accomplished alone.” 

“So, they’re either innocent, or their escape plan through the Fade didn’t exactly pan out the way they’d hoped.” 

It seemed Solas’ true purpose in the conversation was to be the bearer of bad news. 

“Something like that,” he said. 

“Shit luck either way.” 

“Indeed,” Solas confirmed. 

The qunari would likely die, if not within the next day, then within a few months or even weeks. It was hard to imagine the situation ending well for him. During his visit to the dungeons, he saw the human had been chained, her manacles covered in runes to drain her mana and interrupt her connection the Fade. She laid on her bedroll, seemingly asleep, but he could hardly imagine the discomfort that being cut off from her magic would have. Worse still was the knowledge that she would surely be executed soon. With a trial if the qunari woke up, and perhaps publicly in Haven if he did not. At that point, such a thing would no longer matter. 

“What’s the plan now, Solas?” 

“We can only wait and see,” Solas answered. He was unsure why the dwarf would be asking him, since he was fairly sure he already knew most of the goings on in Haven. 

“Oh? Not gonna hop on the first ship to Antiva when you get the chance?” 

“Not quite yet,” he answered with a light chuckle. “I wish to study the rifts and the Breach up close one more time. I plan to discuss it with Sister Leliana.” 

“Good a plan as any, I suppose. Lot smarter dealing with the Nightingale. Could be twice as deadly, though,” Varric said. “Tell me if she agrees.” 

“If she does, are you planning on joining?” Solas asked with a light tone of genuine curiosity. 

“Might as well,” Varric said. “I like loafing around in the tavern as much as the next guy, but I might as well do something while I’m here.” 

“An admirable notion.” 

“I try,” Varric answered with a genuinely charming smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes yikes yikes Don't procrastinate kids, because you can get sick just fucking whenever. Which has definitely convinced me to push updates to at least every two weeks. Thanks so much still reading this... It really means a lot.  
> Good news, though! The official prologue starts next chapter! Which means our protagonist will finally wake his ass up, despite how much he might wish otherwise.   
> Also, I will be posting art. I'll be posting links, unless you guys are interested in me posting some smaller res ones here.


	6. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's awake, and the journey begins.

There was a heavy fog in his head. His body ached. His neck was especially sore. His legs were numb, and yet somehow still ached. His hand felt… hot? Strange. He turned his head, trying to wake up his body. A soft groan escaped him, and he immediately went still again. There was the unmistakable sound of weapons being unsheathed, and it echoed all around him. 

Lias managed to open his eyes, but he couldn’t immediately understand what was going on around him. His sight was blurry, and it was dark wherever he was. He could see outlines of people looking down at him, with faint light reflecting off their swords. He had just long enough to realize he was kneeling on a hard ground before everything was highlighted with a flare of green. Pain followed quickly after. His left hand and half of his arm felt as if it were being burned from the inside. It was sudden, and he hardly had time to look down at it before the pain went away as suddenly as it began, leaving his left hand feeling unnaturally hot again. It was glowing that faint sickly green. He also belatedly noticed his hands were trapped in stocks, chained to the ground. 

A door in front of him swung open, loudly hitting the wall behind it. The soldiers around him sheathed their swords. One person… No. Two women walked in, one barely noticed as she slipped into the shadows. The other marched straight towards him, and then she slowly circled him. He had to control the urge to turn around to keep an eye on her. He was trying to keep some of his attention on the woman in the shadows as well. She stepped into the light to grab his attention, just as the other woman spoke. 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” she said. He couldn’t help but jerk a little at the closeness of her voice right by his ear. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead, except for you.” 

It was too much, all at once. Too much to process, too much to sort through. He’d learned at an early age to keep a stoic face during such situations, but it did nothing to help him in understanding what was happening. He kept quiet, choosing only to watch the women while he tried to quickly orient himself. 

He was jailed, shackled, chained… They believed him guilty of… Destroying the Conclave? What was the Conclave? It sounded familiar to him. Right… It was the job he was hired for, at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The humans hired the Valo-Kos to stand guard since the Chantry couldn’t even trust their precious Templars. Everyone died, somehow. He obviously didn’t do a very great job. Perhaps that’s why they were angry. 

Lias could tell the woman who spoke was a warrior. Tanned skin, short dark hair, and an accent he was sure was Nevarran. The symbol on her breastplate was obviously Chantry-related, though he was finding it difficult to place it exactly. Templar, maybe? That didn’t feel exactly right. 

The other woman looked softer, but the eyes were sharp as the dagger he was sure was hidden somewhere on her person. She was hooded, wearing what reminded him of chainmail robes. Leather and metal combined to protect but not impede movement. She was a rogue, so quiet, lithe, and graceful in her movements. 

“Explain this,” the Nevarran woman demanded, yanking on his left forearm to pull his hand up to his eye level. The movement made him aware of more aches in his body, and the part of his arm the woman grabbed prickled and burned. Thankfully, she released her grip, however roughly, once green light flared again. 

That was another thing he did not understand. The green light in his hand was definitely a new addition. He was not a mage, but he could at least tell magic when he saw it. The new light was magic, and it was somehow attached to him. How, and why, he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember. Something to panic about later.

“I… can’t,” he said honestly. The words were a little more emotional than he meant, but the sudden realization that there was a gap in his memories was worrying, to say the least. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” the woman asked harshly. 

She once again slowly circled around him, joined by the other woman on his other side. The idea of having that woman, the one in the hooded armor, behind him made him more nervous than having the warrior behind him, and he allowed a slight turn of his head to follow her. 

“I don’t know what that is, or how it got there,” he tried to explain. Realization of his situation was still slowly dawning on him. He needed to at least understand how little he knew what was going on. 

“You’re lying!” the Nevarran snapped. She lunged forward, one hand gripping his clothes, the other a fist ready to strike. 

The rogue quickly moved forward, pushing the warrior back a few steps away from their prisoner. The warrior still looked overwhelmingly angry, but she did not push back. 

“We need him, Cassandra,” the rogue said, calm but firm. The accent seemed Orlesian, on first impressions. 

The warrior, Cassandra, let out a slow breath and moved back another step. The rogue turned around again to give Lias her attention, perhaps taking over the interrogation. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” he said before she could speak. If she was playing the kinder, more reasonable interrogator, then perhaps she would at least pretend to listen to him. At the very least, he wanted some answers before the rougher methods were employed so he could at least know what he had supposedly done to deserve it. 

“Do you remember what happened?” the Orlesian rogue asked. “How this began?” 

There were bits and pieces of before that he remembered. Getting news of the job, volunteering for it, traveling across the Waking Sea… Then there just flashes, vague details with no memories attached… It was frightening to not know. He couldn’t tell these people that, obviously. He couldn’t give them nothing, so he tried hard to remember. One of the flashes stood out and he struggle to recall it through the fog and a dull pounding in his head. 

“I remember running,” he began. “ _Things_ were chasing me… and then… a woman?” 

“A woman?” the Orlesian repeated with a disbelieving tone, or perhaps trying to encourage him to continue. 

“She reached out to me, but then…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t know how. Just nothing, and the strong nagging feeling that there should be _something_. He sighed in frustration. 

The two women had expressions he couldn’t quite read on their faces. Cassandra looked calmer, at least. They both looked open to listening. Chances were they could talk this out and find out what was going, even if he had to stay imprisoned for a while. 

Cassandra put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder and lead her a few steps towards the door. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana,” she said. “I will take him to the rift.” 

It was an unexpected turn. Not that any of what was happening was expected but sending one interrogator away and moving the prisoner somewhere else was a new strategy he didn’t really understand. He also had no idea what she meant by “the rift” but he didn’t like the sound of it. 

The Orlesian, Leliana, gave him a long piercing stare then nodded. She was almost at the door when a loud clanking, like metal hitting metal, echoed from Lias’ left. 

“Wait,” a high feminine voice called softly. 

Cassandra and Leliana both turned towards one of the cells to Lias’ left, and Lias turned as much as he could to do the same. The insides of the cells were somehow even more poorly lit, so it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He’d assumed that all the cells were empty, as he hadn’t seen anyone during his cursory glance around the dungeon. As he looked again, he saw a smaller figure leaning against the bars of her cell. It was hard to make out details, but he could tell she was human, despite how thin she was. The clanging noise had been caused manacles on her wrists hitting the bars as she gripped them. 

“Bring me,” she demanded in a little stronger voice. 

“Bring you?” Cassandra repeated in harsh disbelief. “Why would we do that?” 

Inviting yourself along on a trip with your captors that presumably wasn’t going to be a fun outing didn’t generally seem like a promising idea. It might seem like a good time to attempt escaping, but he can’t recall those sorts of attempts ever ending well. 

“I want to see what I am being accused of,” she answered. “What I am being imprisoned for. I need to see.” 

Her voice held a quiet conviction, and she gave both women an unwavering stare. Lias was fairly sure that she was being accused of the same crime, or of having something to do with it. What exactly that was and how either of them was involved, he wasn’t sure. It was a small comfort to know he wasn’t the only one with their ass on the line. 

Cassandra and Leliana looked at one another, communicating silently. He couldn’t see Cassandra’s face, but he had to guess, she didn’t like the idea. There was a long pause before Leliana surprised him by nodding. 

“Very well,” Cassandra said to the imprisoned woman. The tone of her voice was somehow full of warning and slight disapproval. 

That seemed to be it, as Leliana turned to leave and Cassandra pulled keys from her belt. A new soldier walked in almost immediately after Leliana left, meaning she was probably standing guard at the door the entire time. Her armor was unmistakably Templar. She stood close by Cassandra and waited. 

Cassandra gave her a small nod of acknowledgement, and the Templar headed towards the cell. Using the keys, she knelt down and began unlocking the stocks holding Lias. All the soldiers in the room went alert, hands tightly gripping the pommels of their swords, but none pulled. 

It was a smart idea to stay as still as possible, for several reasons. He didn’t want to spook the soldiers. He didn’t want to risk angering the woman in charge more than he already had just by still being alive. He also wanted to see what was going to happen. He had no idea where he even was, how he got there, what the thing on his hand was, and why he was being accused of somehow killing an entire temple full of people. 

“What _did_ happen?” he asked her lowly when she leaned low enough to be eye level with him. 

She paused as she removed the stocks, maybe trying to gauge his reaction. When he only stared back with an expectant stare, she let out a deep, tired sigh. His freedom was short lived as she pulled out a rope and began binding his wrists together. She was rough, but still gentler than he was expecting. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the rope hadn’t been touching his bare skin. The touch made the skin around it sting and burn on his left wrist. It took everything he had not to try to immediately remove it or at least loosen it. 

“It… will be easier to show you,” Cassandra said. 

She gripped his upper left arm to pull him on his feet. He feared for a moment that the touch would bring more of that same searing pain, but it seemed that part of his arm was completely fine. Lias stood to his full height as gracefully as he could with numb legs and bound hands, which was fairly graceful all things considered. He had a quiet moment of amusement when he noticed the look Cassandra gave when she realized how much larger he really was. Many people knew qunari were suppose to be big, but there was always a look of awe and fear when they realized just how much taller, muscular, and generally larger they really were. The look quickly passed, and the woman did not flinch even once, so Lias had to admit respect for this strong warrior woman. 

She took a firm grip of his elbow and began to lead him out the door. Behind them he could hear the unmistakable clank of the Templar’s armor and the clink of the prisoner’s chains following after them. They were led down a hallway, up a set of stairs, into a small room, and then into a larger, open room. It took Lias a moment to realize they were now standing in the middle of a Chantry. A Chantry that for some reason had a large dungeon underneath it. Another mystery to solve later. 

Cassandra stopped their party halfway to the large doors that Lias assumed was the exit. She turned to look at the prisoner and Templar behind them. 

“Bring her some appropriate gear,” she ordered the Templar. 

The Templar seemed taken aback for a moment, then gave a quick nod and walked back the way they had come. Not many people can order a Templar around, or at least there weren’t many people a Templar obeyed orders from. It made Lias wonder who exactly his jailor was. Was that symbol on her armor for the Seekers? It seemed familiar, though he had little to no personal experience with Seekers. He had only a brief run-in on one job and had watched one or two from afar. 

Now that they were stopped, Lias took the opportunity to finally get a good look at his fellow prisoner. He’s not sure what he expected, but she was a fascinating accomplice for a mass murder. Frailer looking than he first thought, and so pale even in the warm candlelight of the Chantry. Even her hair was pale, loosely and messily plated into a braid that stopped at her waist. Her most striking feature were the three scars running down the length of the left side of her face like claw marks. Her second most striking feature was her eyes. One a calm blue, the other a brilliant green. 

He could also see why she needed different attire. Lias still wore the armor he assumed he was wearing when they brought him there, minus the weapons and his left glove. It was warm, and good enough for wherever they needed to go. Her clothes, on the other hand, were just clothes. She wore a long sleeved black shirt that looked form-fitted, yet slightly loose, and had a strange enough sheen that he couldn’t place the material. Her pants were also form fitted, yet slightly loose, and were a well-worn dark blue material. She wore only socks, her boots presumably taken. Not an overall great traveling outfit in mountain weather. Assuming they were still in the mountains. 

As he was looking her over, he noticed her looking back at him. Her gaze didn’t wander over him, instead focusing on his face. She seemed to be studying him, and looking for some answer he wasn’t sure he knew the question to. Her gaze wasn’t intense like Cassandra’s, but it seemed to look far deeper. The thought made him uncomfortable and he cleared his throat audibly. 

“I would say nice to meet you, shake your hand and all that, but maybe this isn’t the easiest time for introductions,” Lias said, lifting his tied hands in front of himself. “Still, I’m Lias Adaar.” 

“Avery Bennett,” she replied in turn, mimicking him by lifting her arms as well. 

“You did not tell us you had a surname,” Cassandra cut in sharply. 

“You… did not ask,” Avery said hesitantly. 

“And am I to believe you two do not know each other?” Cassandra asked harshly. 

“As I have said…” Avery trailed off. She seemed unsure how to handle Cassandra’s simmering rage at pretty much everything. 

It did clue Lias in on the fact that they questioned Avery. She must have been there while he was sleeping, however long that was. He wondered how much she knew about what happened, and how much information she had given. 

“We will bring you to the forward camp,” Cassandra finally said after a long glare. “We will see what will be done with you after that.” 

Avery said nothing, but she gave a gentle nod. The Templar returned shortly after. She put a pair of boots on the floor by Avery and shoved a bundle of fabric in her arms. After she spent a moment fumbling with the fabric, not being able to pull her arms far enough apart to unfold it, Cassandra snatched it out of her hands and shook it out. It was a long cape, and when Cassandra finished pinning it together around Avery’s shoulders, it was long enough to brush the back of her calves. Avery then looked down and the boots with a soft frown and did not immediately move to put them on. 

“What is it?” Cassandra said, as roughly as ever. 

“These are not my boots,” Avery said. 

“No. They are not,” Cassandra said, annoyed and impatient. “Now put them on.” 

She complied, though she was still frowning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially the prologue! Yay! I always imagined the prologue to be extremely confusing for Herald from the moment they wake up from their short coma until they basically go back into another short coma. I also imagined Lias' honest reaction being a whole lot of _what the fuck_ s, but that doesn't make for the most interesting chapters.  
> Please be patient as I get used to writing Lias. It always feels rocking in the beginning writing from a new point of view. I've had Lias for a while, but I hadn't written anything about but short snippets before starting on this.  
> Also, I'm going to try to make prologue chapters a bit longer, mainly because I will be using in-game dialogue. It won't be solely that, and I might not include everything, but you will be seeing it.   
> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks so far! It's really encouraging, so really, thank you so much!


	7. Demons

When the doors of the Chantry opened, the brightness of the world outside nearly blinded them. From the dim light of the dungeons and the sparsely lit Chantry to the daylight of the outside world reflecting off fresh snow, it wasn’t a quick adjustment. Cassandra and the Templar seemed to have little trouble with it, as they pushed the prisoners outside. Lias was trying to shield his eyes, and Avery had quickly closed hers. Cassandra stopped a few steps ahead, staring at the sky. 

Though his eyes finally adjusted, Lias wasn’t sure he could trust them. The sky was chaos. He could hear a sharp gasp to his right, and he wondered if Avery saw what he saw. Above the mountain line was a giant, swirling hole, surrounded by dark clouds and things that looked like giant floating rocks. It permeated a green light, not unlike the sickly green of his hand.

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra explained. “It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.”

The giant, green hole—the Breach was real. His eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Somehow, the thought didn’t make him feel any better. He tried to listen to Cassandra’s explanation, but it was hard to tear his gaze away from the sight. 

“It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave,” she said.

“An explosion can do that?” Lias asked doubtfully, finally managing to look away. He’d seen quite a few explosions in his time and even caused a few. Granted, none on a such a large scale… that he remembered. Still, something like _that_ couldn’t be from a mere explosion. At least, not the normal kind.

“This one did,” Cassandra said firmly. “Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

The horror that statement might have brought was quickly overshadowed by sudden, blinding pain. He was well enough, standing tall and just a little sore, and then he was on his knees letting out a yelp of pain. The green of the Breach shined brighter, pulsing in time with the flaring of the green magic in his hand. Every nerve from his hand to shoulder felt like it was on fire, as if his skin would burst apart. He cradled it to his chest, trying to control the involuntary jerks and twitches. Then the pain, the fire was gone just as quickly. His body was still expecting the pain, and in its wake his skin felt raw and his muscles were tense. He belatedly realized Cassandra had knelt in front of him, and she was saying something.

“—Breach expands, your mark spreads…” she said, more somber than before. “And it is killing you.”

Good news all around since waking up, it seemed. The magic thing on his was actually connected to the huge magic thing in the sky. Better news, he apparently survived a massive explosion, only so he could die slowly and painfully.

“It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time,” said Cassandra.

Lias couldn’t help but stare hard at the human in front of him. 

“You think _this_ —” He gestures vaguely with his bound hands towards the sky. “—can fix _that_?”

Cassandra gave a decisive nod. “Whether or not its possible, we’ll discover shortly,” she said. “It is our only chance, however. And yours.”

“And you think I did _this_ —” He pressed his still glowing hand to his chest. “—to myself.”

“Not intentionally, and not by yourself,” she said, the harsh tone creeping back into her voice. Something clearly went wrong.”

She cut a sharp look towards Avery, who was being held tightly by her arm by the Templar. Her face was eerily devoid of emotion, but the light of the Breach and the natural light of the day left her looking sickly pale. The only color in her face were from bruises on her jaw and forehead and the shiny pink of scar tissue. For the supposed accomplice who possibly doomed him, she looked worse off than him. It was hard to find such a small human as big a threat as the Chantry zealots holding him captive. But in his line of business, it was good to remember that looks could be deceiving… 

“And if I—If we aren’t responsible?” Lias asked, momentarily tripping over his words. He didn’t want to trample his fellow prisoner underfoot in attempt to gain freedom, at least not yet. Better to stay on her good side until they found some sort of proof. Always good to have an escape buddy.

“Someone is, and you are our only suspects,” she answered, entirely unconcerned with the ridiculousness of answer. “You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way.”

Not that Lias was hoping for much, knowing the way humans tended to be, but he was hoping for _something_ more than that. So far, the only evidence he’d been given as to why they were willing to convict them for the murder of so many people was that they were alive. The weird magic thing on his hand was alarming, but he still didn’t see how it automatically proved his guilt. At the very least, he was a possible witness and person of interest. And the human? She didn’t even have the mark. She was just alive. 

As nice as it was to think he had options, the truth was that he really didn’t. He was being held prisoner by the Chantry, which history has proven to mean no one could do anything even if they wanted to. None of the other races would care, and the Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth back home wouldn’t be entirely thrilled with him leaving the giant hole in the sky shitting out demons. The thought of his family’s reactions alone made up his mind. That, and it was the right thing to do and all that hogwash.

“Right,” he said with a deep sigh. “Let’s get going then, I guess.”

“Then you…?” Cassandra hesitated, seemingly surprised by his cooperation. 

“I’ll try,” Lias said. “Can’t make any promises.” 

She seemed satisfied, despite his unconfident reply. She gripped his arm tightly and helped him stand up again. For a human, she had a surprisingly strong grip. Once he was steady, she stuck close and began to lead him forward. The Templar and Avery followed close after. 

The further they pushed through town, the more people they saw. The reactions from the crowd were fear, unease, and blind hate. He learned to deal with such reactions growing up in the Free Marches, but it was a whole different scale. This wasn’t just because he was tall, grey, and had horns. It wasn’t just the Chantry that believed in their guilt. The entire village looked more than ready and willing to lynch him for his supposed crimes at that moment. Had Cassandra not been standing so close to him, he had little doubt they’d be doing more than muttering cruel words and spitting at his feet as he passed. Behind him, he heard stumbling and the clinking of chains, and he thought that maybe Avery’s jailor didn’t feel the need to protect her charge. 

Cassandra started to prattle on about the Conclave. He remembered the details, since he was the one leading the company to run the job. It was a smaller group, since the talks of the Conclave hadn’t officially begun. Non-human mercenary groups were given first offer, since they had little loyalty to either side. Not all accepted due to the turbulent nature of the job, but it was good pay and Shokrakar didn’t want to pass it up. 

The more he saw of the village and its outside surroundings, the more he remembered about his trip there. He remembered traveling and arriving. The Valo-Kas almost never stay in human villages when they do jobs, so they camped in an area outside of Haven. He remembered entering the village to trade and get information, but things were blurry. 

They made their way to a small bridge outside the village, the path up the mountain blocked by large gates. There seemed to be two guards to a gate, and three on the bridge. At least one dead body lay on the ground, covered by a bloodied cloth. Once they reached the middle of the bridge, Cassandra stopped them and turned to stand in front of Lias. 

“There will be a trial,” she said. “I can promise no more.” 

There was a gut reaction of panic when she pulled the knife from her belt. Logically, he knew she wouldn’t try to hurt him with it without reason, and she had a sword far more capable of the job. Still, it’s a hard instinct to quell. He tensed when she roughly pulled his hands forward and cut the rope binding them. Freeing him meant she believed he wouldn’t run, and that she was probably very confident in her ability to defeat a fully grown qunari man. He didn’t really want to find out if her confidence was warranted or not, but it was an interesting move. Not one he’d complain about. 

“Come,” Cassandra commanded. “It is not far.” 

“And where are we going, exactly?” Lias asked, rubbing the skin on his left wrist. 

“We have to test your mark on something smaller than the Breach,” she said, as if that explained everything, and turned her back to him to speak with the guards standing at the gate out. 

The gate was opened, and the group started walking forward again. Lias took a few steps before he realized he could hear the faint clinking of a chain behind him. He stopped to look at Avery, who had mercifully been released from the Templar’s iron grip and stopped beside him. She looked up quizzically, seemingly unaware of the situation herself. 

“Not to argue against my freedom,” he began, looking to Cassandra, “but is there a reason you feel comfortable letting _me_ free and not the small human?” 

Avery lifted her chains and jingled them for effect. “It keeps the magic away,” she says almost melodically. The action seemed almost child-like in the carefree manor she did it, free of the bitterness and sarcasm he would have expected. 

“She’s an apostate,” the Templar explained harshly. “They keep her magic tamed.” 

The reason the humans were so willing to condemn one of their own suddenly made a lot more sense to Lias. And the reason they seemed to fear her. To them, being a mage made Avery less than human, so that’s probably somewhere on the same level that they saw qunari. If they claimed his guilt by the mark on his hand, hers was guilt by simple existence. 

It made their supposed connection clearer. They believed Avery was the one to put the mark on his hand. Whether or not they thought he was just some pawn in the plot of a nefarious mage or an equal accomplice, he still couldn’t decide. 

“We are only taking her to the forward camp,” Cassandra explained. “I will not risk letting the mage free in this mess.” 

Interesting how they spoke of Avery to him as if she were not right there beside him. The Templar seemed to hate both Lias and Avery equally, but old habits die hard and she turned extra ire towards her charge. Cassandra’s hatred seemed a little more personal. Avery didn’t seem offended by how they spoke, nor by the decision to keep her chained. Perhaps she was lucky they weren’t using the collars he knew some Templars were fond of. Lias decided to drop the subject without another comment. 

Leaving through the gate onto the mountain path brought them to the first real signs of battle. There were crude barricades set up along the road, a supply cart burning, and patches where the snow was melted and scorch marks remained. Soldiers were running down the path and passed them without a second glance. One was yelling that it was the end of the world. 

Lias was so focused on the scene around him that he failed to notice the change in the Breach. A few seconds later he found himself on his knees again as he was struck with the sudden excruciating pain again. It was intense, blinding, and over just as suddenly as before. 

This time he saw the Templar clamp a strong hand on Avery’s arm as she tried to bend down to help him. She was yanked back roughly, and for a brief moment he saw the first sign of anger flash across her face. Cassandra was the one who helped him again, offering a hand. 

“The pulses are coming faster now,” she said, softer than he’d heard her speak so far. She pat his arm almost kindly after he steadied on his feet. There was an unexpected look of pity in her eyes. Pity was an opening for doubt to grow, if he played his cards right. 

“The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face,” she said. 

Lias was suddenly faced with the realization that there would be demons. That was the enemy they were fighting, that made a simple mountain path look like a war zone. He had done plenty of jobs as a mercenary, and he dealt with more demons than most people might. Still, the idea of facing as many demons as Cassandra was implying… It’d be more exciting and less terrifying if he had his weapons and company at his side. 

They continued walking forward, a little more slowly as Lias got his bearings again. Cassandra was surprisingly patient, setting a steady pace a few feet in front of the group. Avery took to walking next to Lias again. She looked up at him with what he guessed was worry, though he couldn’t say the reason behind it. The Templar seemed to follow Cassandra’s pace without complaint, though she stuck closer behind Avery necessary. 

“How did we survive the blast?” Lias asked. She seemed more willing to share information than when they were in the village, so he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. 

She gave him a searching look, then explained hesitantly, “They say you… stepped out of a rift then fell unconscious. They say there was a woman in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” 

The explanation brought back vague flashes, a barely there moment of hitting a hard ground and hearing the shouts of soldiers. He remembered the desperate thought of needing to get up, to move, gripping something desperately, needing to find somewhere safe. Then, there was nothing. Waking up in the dungeon of the Chantry with the vague knowledge that time had passed but no clue how long. 

He stopped moving as he recalled the memory, and Cassandra allowed it. He looked down at Avery, wondering if she could fill in the blanks where his memory failed. She looked up at him with a similar look of confusion and curiosity. He wondered if she had similar gaps in her memory. There were so many things he desperately wanted to ask her, but under the harsh and impatient gazes of the other women, he decided to wait. 

“Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Cassandra continued as they moved forward again. “I suppose you’ll see soon enough.” 

They made it to another bridge standing above a frozen river. There was a small squad of soldiers there, milling about and probably waiting for something to happen. Cassandra started in their direction, and they perked up when they noticed her. Their group was halfway across the bridge when Lias heard a loud explosive sound and screams and felt the sturdy stone beneath his feet give way. 

He felt the hard impact of the ground and felt his horns scrape the ice as he rolled to a stop. His already sore body protested movement of any sort. He heard Cassandra groaning not far away and heard the scuffle as she moved to stand up. Lias managed to sit up on his own and quickly take in his surroundings. The bridge had been blasted apart by something, leaving only rubble behind. There were broken supply crates and people among the stone debris. 

There was another loud sound as something fell from the sky and hit the ice a short distance away from Cassandra and him. There, suddenly, stood a demon. It was a fully formed shade, already lashing out at the very air in a desperate anger. 

“Stay behind me!” Cassandra shouted. Shield readied and sword drawn, she charged forward.

It was relieving to have a capable warrior guarding him, one who was clearly familiar with demons. She attacked with a fierceness and ferocity that he couldn’t help but admire. He knew she was capable of handling the threat on her own, as much as he would like to be able to help her. 

Lias took the opportunity to search the debris for the other two people in their party. Well, he was mainly searching for Avery. He saw her head peaking over the ragged edge of the remains of the bridge. It looked like she was laying prone. He wondered if she had jumped out of the way in time or if she had just been thrown back. She was awake, at least, and seemingly unharmed as she stood up. She took one more look at the ground, then decided against jumping down and turned around. His eyes followed as she made her way to the bank of the frozen river and slid down. 

There was an unnatural bubbling sound alarmingly close to where Lias was standing. He backed away, watching in horror as another demon began to pull itself out of the ground. It would be more accurate to say it was pulling itself in existence, materializing from nothing. 

He was defenseless, save for his own strength. Hand-to-hand combat was as good as useless on demons. The humans took his daggers, and they even took the knives he liked to keep tucked away in hidden places. He searched desperately around him for _something_ he could use. Lias would punch a demon if he had to, but he would rather that be a last resort. 

Gratefully, he spotted a short sword nearby. It looked like iron, and somewhat dull, but it was a weapon. He snatched it up just as the demon screeched, fully formed and ready to attack. Lias stood ready, trying to figure out a way to end the fight as quickly as possible. 

Ice made quick movements an extra challenge. He couldn’t pivot as cleanly or control his own momentum as well. Instead, he decided on a quick frontal attack. It went against instinct, but he tried to parry instead of dodge. His movements almost faltered when he felt the unmistakable wash of magic slide over him. He ignored it, trying to focus on the enemy in front of him. The magic wasn’t meant to kill him, at least. 

The thing died without inflicting injury on Lias. Its body dissolved into nothingness, disturbingly enough. It wasn’t as quick and clean of a kill as he would like, but he thought he did well enough for improvising in the situation. 

Avery was by his side when he turned to check if she was alright. She was looking over him as well, and they were both satisfied to see the other unharmed. 

Lias looked down at himself to see the faint shimmer of a magical barrier disappear. He looked back at Avery in bewilderment. She gave him a weary smile then raised her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. He’d heard rumors some mages could still cast while wearing binds meant to nullify their magic, but he had never been sure if he could believe it. Avery did, somehow, even if it wasn’t for very long. 

“Drop your weapon!” Cassandra shouted not far away. “Now!” 

Lias turned around to see her stomping toward him, sword still drawn and leveled at him. 

He felt a flash of anger he tried to reign in. All the confusion, fear, and pain fueling it made it difficult to ignore. There was so much he didn’t know, so much to take in all at once. He was angry at the situation, angry at the giant hole in the world, angry at the magic thing on his hand trying to kill him, angry at the humans accusing him of a crime he couldn’t even remember committing, and angry at the way Cassandra expected him to be at her mercy in a situation she clearly couldn’t control. 

“A demon attacked us,” he said as calmly as he could. “What was I supposed to do?” 

“You don’t need to fight,” she barked back harshly. 

“Are you so confident that you can protect the two of us?” Lias asked lowly, voice taking on a sharp edge. “I am not going to leave us both defenseless. Unless you want to unshackle her. If you do that, I’ll drop my sword.” 

He took a gamble with that. He was sure that Cassandra hated the idea of either of them having any way of fighting, but the situation proved it necessary. Even she would have to admit that. Ideally, both Lias and Avery could move freely, but pushing for one of them seemed like the smarter option. The fear of a mage often outweighed the fear of an armed qunari. It was a risk he was betting she wasn’t willing to take. 

Cassandra looked between with a deep scowl on her face. There were a few heartbeats of silence before her face softened. She sighed deeply and sheath her sword. 

“You are right,” she said begrudgingly. “I cannot protect you. And I cannot expect you to be defenseless. I… should remember you agreed to come willingly.” 

Lias nodded, and he felt the anger subside a bit. She hadn’t mentioned anything about his suggestion to unshackle Avery, but that wasn’t unexpected. He felt better to at least have a weapon of his own. 

“Where is the Knight-Lieutenant?” she asked, looking around at the debris. 

Lias and Avery looked as well. They hadn’t seen her after the bridge fell, and she hadn’t rejoined them. All around them, crushed under chunks of rock, half burned, or torn in pieces, were bodies of the soldiers they saw milling about not long again. It was likely the Templar was among them. Sure enough, Avery alerted Cassandra and Lias that she found her not too far away. A particularly large piece of the bridge had crushed the bottom half of her body. In what could be considered a small mercy, it seemed like she had died fairly quickly. 

“May you find peace at the Maker’s side,” Cassandra muttered, closing the Templar’s eyes. 

Lias realized that he hadn’t even known her name. It wasn’t disturbing to him anymore to no longer feel much more than a fleeting sadness at someone’s death, not like it did when he was young. Still, it was always a little off putting to look down on the body of someone you were talking with not long before. He knew her briefly, knew her voice, but he had no idea who she was besides being a Templar. 

They couldn’t afford to spend time to properly honor the dead. If Cassandra was telling the truth, things were dire. They decided to search for some supplies before they headed off again. Cassandra found some still intact potions. Lias found a dagger, and a belt he could sheath his weapons on. Avery took the opportunity to just stare at the Breach with a facial expression he couldn’t read. 

Before they set out again on a new path cutting across the frozen rivers and lakes, Cassandra gave Lias three of their five healing potions. He tucked two away in his pockets, since he was still alright after his fight. It didn’t seem worth it to waste a potion for the pain of the mark, since he doubted it would do much good until the thing was gone. He decided to hand one to Avery instead. Her face was so pale and under her eyes had become so dark. The bruising from earlier was still there and she had scraped her cheek when the bridge collapsed. The shackles drained her mana, making her weaker, but he was sure whatever treatment she’d had while imprisoned great. 

It took a stern look to convince her to drink it, she seemed so weary of it. The effects were fast-acting, though not overly dramatic. The scrape healed cleanly, the bruises began to lighten a bit, and a small amount of color returned to her. She should have an easier time traveling, even if it was only a temporary solution. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it feels like it cuts off suddenly. I started typing this chapter intending to get to a certain point and realized it was way long. I decided to split it into two chapters. I'll post the next one next week, or maybe even this weekend. We shall see.   
> Also, I'm terrible at action scenes. It's something I'll be working on later in this story, but for now, we get this.


	8. The Rift

The continue journey was met with some resistance. They ran into two small groups of demons, and they took them down with little injury. Lias and Cassandra found a shaky rhythm to their fighting. She would draw attention and take blows, and Lias would wear the down with quick cuts and jabs. Avery stood a short distance away, watching and unable to help. She only repeated her barrier trick once, when a wraith Lias didn’t see had attacked from afar. The barrier broke instantly after the hit. Cassandra didn’t notice, which was probably for the best. 

The journey without the demons wasn’t so bad. They found another path to travel on, or maybe it was the same one as before. Avery was having the hardest time of it out of the three. She could still move her hands a short distance apart, but it wasn’t ideal for a hike up mountains. There were a few times Cassandra or Lias would have to help her. At one point she slipped on ice and was only saved by Lias quickly grabbing her. Cassandra seemed to waver on her stance to unshackle her, but they would remain for now. 

At some point, Lias began to hear the faint sounds of battle. Not long after, Cassandra seemed to be able to hear it as well. Her steps began to quicken, and she climbed up a set of old stairs leading up.

“We are getting close to the rift,” she said. “You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?” he asked.

“You’ll see soon enough,” she answered. “We must help them.”

Cassandra kept moving quickly as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. Lias was further behind, trying to keep pace with Avery in case he need to steady her again. Cassandra didn’t seem to worry about them running anymore, as she left them behind. Once they made it to the top, they moved quickly to try to keep up. 

They saw something green floating in the air ahead of them. It glowed the same as the Breach, and Lias could feel the magic on his hand react to it somehow. Around the rift, as he guessed it was, there was a fight. Four people were fighting four demons, and he watched as Cassandra joined the fray. 

He rushed forward to join her, jumping down a small ledge. Behind him he heard a scuffle and a soft cry of alarm. He felt guilty for a brief moment that he didn’t help Avery off the ledge. Her footsteps joined his soon after, though, so he knew she was managing fine. She stopped outside the broken walls of the old ruin where the fighting was happening, and Lias jumped into the fray.

There were two unseasoned soldiers trying to fight one demon, and barely managing. Cassandra pulled the attention of another demon from a dwarven archer, who looked to be skilled with a crossbow. A mage was fighting another, fighting fairly well in close combat with his staff and magic, but obviously trying to put distance between himself and his opponent. The last demon was trying to sneak up on the mage, and Lias knew where he had to go. 

The demons were stronger than the ones they fought before. Maybe it had something to do with the rift. He couldn’t say. He just knew he had to kill they as quickly as he could. The mage was skilled, at least, so the demons went down without too much difficulty. He looked up in time to see Cassandra running a sword through the demon she was fighting. They all turned quickly at the sound of yelling coming from one of the soldiers.

One soldier lay on the ground, clutching his wounded leg. Another was frozen with fear, staring at his friend, who was sitting so close to the body of another soldier. The demon reared back to strike, and Lias looked in time to see Avery run forward to block the blow with a sword she must have picked up from one of the fallen. Both hands were wrapped around the hilt as she tried to compensate for being cuffed. The block was awkward, it would have never held against another trained swordsman, but it caught the demon off-guard. It gave enough time for the dwarf to shoot a bolt into its head and finish off the job. 

“Quickly, before more come through!” Lias heard the mage shout beside him.

He felt a strong grip on his left hand, and he almost yanked his hand away at the discomfort it caused. Before he did, he felt the unfamiliar sensation of magic running through his hand, similar to how it had been since he woke but so, so different. The mark flared bright again, but instead of the excruciating pain that felt like his flesh burning away, he felt… It was hard to describe. It hurt, but he felt past the pain. He felt the currents of the air around him, magic meeting the mark on his hand, and the energy of the rift in front of him. The magic stimulated the mark, and it formed a connection with the rift. 

Lias knew little of the Fade or the Veil. What he knew of magic was the effects it could have in battle and how to combat it. He’d been told many times it required a strong will, and he suddenly understood what that meant. The rift didn’t simply close when he connected with it. He had to tell it close, to will it shut. And suddenly it was. 

His arm jerked back at the suddenly absence of the connection. The mage, oddly tall for an elf with a bald head, took a few steps back from him. 

“What did you do?” Lias asked, staring at the elf with suspicion.

“ _I_ did nothing,” he answered. “The credit is yours.”

A load of shit that was, but Lias wasn’t sure if he should call it out. Even if Lias had closed it, he knew he felt magic initiate the connection. He didn’t know if he could even explain it if someone asked, but the elf _did_ do something. Maybe he had just been shoving magic energy into it to get it do something. It’s not like Lias would know. Still, the whole experience was disturbing.

“Well, at least this thing is good for something,” he said with a deep sigh. 

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand,” the elf started to explain. “I theorized that the mark might be able to the close the rifts that opened in the Breach’s wake—and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself,” Cassandra cut in, a cautiously hopeful tone in her voice.

“Possibly,” the elf replied. He then turned to Lias again and said, “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

And fuck if that wasn’t the scariest thing Lias had heard all day. The unknown magic thing on his hand could close small rifts in the Veil and stop demons, and now it was probably the only way to close the giant one in the sky. They expected him to do that. All he could do was stare blankly at the elf.

“Good to know,” a gravelly cut in before Lias could let himself dwell on that thought. “And here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”

The dwarf with the crossbow sauntered towards them, looking remarkably carefree after everything that had just happened.

“Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and, occasionally, unwelcome tagalong,” he said with a sly wink towards Cassandra. She answered with a noise of disgust.

Cassandra walked away from the three to check on the soldiers and Avery. Avery had discarded the sword somewhere and was kneeling beside the injured man, hands sliding over the wound. Lias wondered if she could use healing magic to any degree with her restraints, or if she was trying to help normally. She ordered Avery to back away. The other soldier found his bearings after Cassandra called to him and started fumbling with something on his belt. He pulled out a healing potion, crouched beside his friend, and tried to open it. After two shaky failed attempts, Cassandra took it from his hands and helped give it to the man.

Cassandra ordered them to head back towards Haven. She advised the path they have taken, as the way was more likely to be free of demons now. The potion seemed to stop the bleeding, though the injury was far from healed. Avery helped the man up as best she could, and he managed to hobble away with the help of his friend. Cassandra walked back towards the men, motioning for Avery to follow. 

“That’s a nice crossbow you have there,” Lias said to Varric in attempt to encourage the conversation to continue on. Between Cassandra and Avery, there hadn’t been a lot of conversation on the trip so far, minus accusations and threats.

“Ah, isn’t she?” Varric said fondly. “Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

He gave the crossbow a gentle look and loving pat. The dwarf showed and obvious affection for his weapon that Lias recognized vaguely with a smile. It reminded him of some of the Tal-Vashoth who joined Valo-Kas. Most discarded their weapons when they abandoned the Qun, but some kept theirs close, treating it like a child or old friend.

“You named your crossbow Bianca?” he asked with subtle amusement.

“Of course,” he said with a wry grin. “And she’ll be great company in the valley.”

“Absolutely not,” Cassandra cut in. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but—”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?” Varric cut her off. “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

_So she is a Seeker_ , Lias thought to himself. 

Cassandra didn’t seem happy with Varric’s statement, but she didn’t argue it. She let out a frustrated growl and turned away instead.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions,” the elf said. “I am pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,’” Varric said.

“And I am surprised to see you here as well,” Solas said, addressing Avery.

Avery, who had stood quietly near Lias, only nodded in reply.

“Lias Adaar,” he introduced himself.

There was a pause as everyone waited for Avery to introduce herself, all eyes on her. She looked slightly baffled by everyone’s attention. Lias raised his eyebrows and gestured towards Avery, then at Solas and Varric.

“Oh,” she said softly in realization. “Avery Bennett.”

She looked uncomfortable introducing herself, even if it was so briefly. Lias decided to just move on instead of calling attention to it.

“You see to know a lot about all this,” Lias said to Solas, tone lighter and more casual than the implication it brought.

“Like her—” Cassandra motioned towards Avery. “—Solas is an apostate.”

“Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra,” he said, then turned to address Lias. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.”

Solas was a man who liked to talk. That much was easy to tell. Lias had met a few of those kinds before. Kaariss in particular sprung to mind, but Solas didn’t seem that annoying. Luckily, he was an easy person to listen to, with a soothing timber and cadence to his voice.

“A commendable attitude,” Lias said amicably. 

“Merely a sensible one, although sense appears to be in short supply right now,” Solas said with a hint of bitterness. Lias wondered what he was referring to but decided to worry about that problem when they came to it.

Solas turned to Cassandra and said, “Cassandra, you should know… the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. One of your prisoners is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.” 

“Understood,” she said, and began walking away. “We must get to the forward camp quickly.” 

“Wait,” Lias called to her. 

She stopped and looked back at him in confusion, and perhaps slight annoyance. 

Lias gestured down at Avery’s hands handing awkwardly in front of her. 

“I think we can take these off now,” he said. It was phrased like a suggestion, but his tone made it sound like a command. 

He was a little surprised himself by his pushing for Avery’s freedom. He knew nothing about the strange human mage. He’d been trying since they left the dungeon to identify her accent, but he came up blank. There was so much he didn’t know, but for some reason he knew he didn’t have to worry about her. It’d be a stretch to say he trusted her, but at the very least he believed in her innocence as much as he believed in his own. She was stuck in the same situation he was, minus the magic thing slowly killing her. 

Cassandra made a face, making it clear she didn’t like the idea, but Lias could tell she was considering it. She was already close to breaking before they got to the rift. All she needed was an extra push. 

“C’mon, Seeker,” Varric said. “It’s only going to get worse the further we go. We’ll need all the help we can get.” 

“You… are not wrong,” Cassandra said begrudgingly. 

She pulled the key out and moved in front of Avery. Avery looked… happy, if Lias had to guess. She offered her hands willingly, and Cassandra unlocked them. 

“You haven’t tried to run so far,” Cassandra said to her. “Nor have you complained even once…” 

It was hard to tell what Cassandra’s point was in saying that. Praise for being a good prisoner? A round-about apology for the harsh treatment? She didn’t seem to have anything more to say, so maybe he’d never know. 

Avery rubbed at her wrists lightly and pulled up the sleeve of her shirt. The skin around her wrists was red and irritated, and there were spots that looked like they were rubbed almost raw. She rolled her sleeves back down with a frown. 

Solas approached her, holding a staff found on a fallen mage. Avery took it carefully, and she tested its weight. It stood a little taller than her, clearly made for a taller human than herself. She then began to push magic into it, as it lit up with a faint glow and flames danced along the tip of the staff. She seemed a little disappointed for some reason, but she made no complaints. 

Solas reached towards her hands but stopped to let his own hover over her wrists. There was a soft glow of magic as he healed her. The injuries couldn’t have been so terrible as to worry about, but Solas’ effort must have brought some comfort to the situation. Once he was finished, Solas stepped back to a respectable distance away from anyone. 

“It may take some time to feel fully recovered, but you should be able to regain mana quickly enough to defend yourself in a fight, should the need arise,” Solas told Avery. 

She gave a sharp nod, looking him directly in the eye in a way he had yet to her do with either Cassandra or himself. 

“Thank you, Solas,” Avery said earnestly. 

Navigating the terrain was much simpler with Avery free. The group moved faster with each person able to support themselves. Cassandra took the lead, and Varric lingered in the back, managing to casually look like he wasn’t doing in purposely. 

Combat was also a lot smoother with the new help. Solas and Varric were obviously used to fighting, and they adapted well with Cassandra and Lias’ uneasy rhythm, even managing to make things flow a lot smoother. Avery helped with barriers and would heal when someone was in a rough spot, but for actual combat, she broke away from the group. She would isolate a demon or go for one on the edge of where everyone was fighting. Her style wasn’t flashy or terrifyingly devastating the way Lias had seen some mages fight in the past. She relied on her staff, throwing volleys of fire at the enemy to weaken it. Occasionally she would ignore the staff and cast with her hands. She would send precisely send spikes of magic rising out of the ground to pierce through the demon. Quick, focused bolts of spirit energy would shoot through another. It was nothing powerful, but they were well-timed and well-placed strikes. It made him wonder how she would fight were she fully recovered and well rested. 

Varric’s curiosity seemed to reach its limit as he tried luring information out of the two very interesting prisoners. 

“We had Qunari in Kirkwall,” Varric said. “A whole boatload of them. They were your typical cheerless sort. Then they tried to take over the city and kill everyone. But I’m guessing you don’t actually follow the Qun, do you? You’re Tal-Vashoth.” 

The story of the Qunari in Kirkwall was pretty infamous throughout Thedas. Doubly so for Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth. It was odd to think a surface dwarf from the Free Marches had more experience with the Qunari than most Vashoth. The experience almost certainly couldn’t have endeared him to any of them. 

“Why, Varric!” Lias said in a teasing tone. “Are you afraid I’ll try to convert you to the Qun?” 

“Well, you haven’t recited a single quote from the Prophet Koslun yet,” Varric said. “So, unless you’re trying to stay on the Seeker’s good side, I’d say that’s pretty telling.” 

“I don’t know, give it a while,” Lias said with a chuckle. “I might start blathering about suffering and the sea.” 

“Heh, now I know you’re definitely Tal-Vashoth,” said Varric. 

“It’s close enough,” Lias said with a small sigh. 

The conversation about the difference between a Tal-Vashoth and a Vashoth wasn’t one he could get into at the moment. Most outsiders didn’t even really understand the difference once it was explained to them. There were a lot of bad rumors about Tal-Vashoth from both sides, so it also usually turned into a long, drawn-out thing about the Qun itself. A tiring affair all around, but thankfully Varric was wise enough to drop it. 

“How about you?” Varric asked Avery instead. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that accent before.” 

Avery hesitated, looking unsure how to answer, but eventually said, “I would not think so.” 

Before the conversation could go anywhere, the mark on Lias’ hand flared again. It was sudden, but unlike the other times it didn’t seem to just be reacting with the Breach. It flared on its own, and the pain lingered. Lias had to stop, grunting in pain and waiting to for it to die down. 

“My magic cannot stop the mark from growing further,” Solas said gravely. “For your sake, I suggest we hurry.” 

There was a heaviness in the air as they all moved forward again, feeling a new urgency quickening their steps. Varric was the one who broke the silence by asking the question no one else had thought to ask even once since Lias woke. 

“So… are you innocent?” Varric asked. 

“I want to say, ‘Of course I didn’t have anything to do with this,’ but that’s kind of hard to do when I can’t remember what even happened,” Lias answered honestly. 

“That’ll get you every time,” said Varric. “Should have spun a story.” 

“That’s what you would have done,” Cassandra said with contempt. 

“It’s more believable,” Varric said matter-of-factly, “and less prone to result in premature execution.” 

They had to stop their conversation to fight another battle. It didn’t feel like Lias’ imagination that they were finding more and more demons the closer they got to the temple. According to the others, they were almost to the forward camp. 

They were going up another set of stairs when Cassandra yelled that she saw another rift. Once they reached the top, they all saw it as well, a short distance away from a large gate. Two guards stood ready, clearly having already seen battle. 

“They keep coming! Help us!” one of them cried. 

It was a harder fight than they had faced so far. Not only were the demons stronger close to the rift, but more came after the first ones died. While the others were occupied with fighting, Lias attempted to close the rift. The mark connected easily once he raised his hand toward the rift, but he soon realized it was impossible to close it, so long as the demons were still alive and connected to it. He did, however, discover he could weaken the demons by disrupting their connect to the rift. The others took advantage of their weakness quickly. Once they were all dead, Solas urged Lias to quickly close the rift before more could come through again. It closed when he tried again, without the help of anyone. 

“The rift is gone! Open the gate!” Cassandra ordered. 

“Right away, Lady Cassandra,” a guard answered quickly. 

“We are clear for the moment,” Solas said. “Well done.” 

“Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful,” Varric commented. 

The forward camp was another bridge, defended by to large gates to keep the demons at bay. It was a decently sized bridge, but it was crammed full with supplies, soldiers, and even the remains of the dead. There were some Chantry Sisters try to help wounded soldiers or passing out rations. For a camp, Lias only saw two small tents. There were a few soldiers sleeping on the hard stone or on top of crates. 

Cassandra kept marching forward, eyes locked on Leliana on the other side of the camp. She was speaking with a Chantry Brother, who looked like he was getting more and more upset as the conversation went on. Once they were closer, Lias could them both yelling. 

“We must prepare the soldiers!” Leliana insisted. 

“We will do no such thing,” the Brother argued. 

“The prisoner must get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Leliana said. “It is our only chance!” 

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility,” the Brother said harshly. 

“ _I_ have caused trouble?” Leliana repeated incredulously. 

“You, Cassandra, the Most Holy– haven’t you all done enough already?” he asked sharply. 

“You’re not in command here!” Leliana nearly shouted. 

“Enough! I will not have it!” the Brother commanded angrily. 

He looked up and saw the group approaching, a deep sneer wrinkling his face. For a man trying to hold sway over soldiers and the defense of a village, he didn’t look like someone who had been in combat a day in his life. Soft, a bit portly, like he had spent his entire life behind the safety of Chantry walls. 

“Ah, here they come,” the Brother announced with a bit a malice. 

“You made it,” Leliana said with clear relief in her voice. “Chancellor Roderick, this is–”

“I know who they are,” Roderick cut her off, puffing up to look important. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take these criminals to Val Royeaux to face execution.” 

“Order me?” Cassandra repeated with clear distain. “You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!” 

That one got to Lias, and he had to stop himself from showing a reaction. 

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!” Roderick shot back. 

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know,” Leliana said. 

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick shouted. At Leliana’s darkened expression, he continued on in a calmer tone. “We must elect her replacement and obey her orders on the matter.” 

“So everyone can ignore the giant Breach in the sky while the Chantry squabbles over elections in Orlais?” Lias snapped, harsher than was probably wise. 

He should have expected people like Roderick, but he really had hoped that everyone could at least see the importance of closing the Breach. It was the only reason Lias was willing to go along with Cassandra. Something like that couldn’t just be ignored. A more selfish part of Lias also worried about what would become of him if they didn’t continue on. 

“ _You_ brought this on us in the first place!” Roderick pointed a finger at Lias, nearly snarling. As if he would be brave enough to do anything besides yelling. 

Cassandra moved to stand between Lias and Roderick, glaring the Brother down. 

“Call a retreat, Seeker,” Roderick said more calmly. “Our position here is hopeless.” 

“We can stop this before it’s too late,” Cassandra said with conviction. 

“How?” Roderick asked, his voice taking on a tone of hopelessness. “You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.” 

“We must get to the temple,” Cassandra said. “It’s the quickest route.” 

“But not the safest,” Leliana pointed out. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” 

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path,” Cassandra said. “It’s too risky.” 

“Listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost,” Roderick implored. He could clearly see the two women were set on continuing their plan without listening to his opinion on the matter. 

The light of Breach bathed everything in a green glow, and the world seemed to shake in the wake of its expansion. The reacted with it, bringing back the pain. Lias managed to stay on his feet, but either the pain or the magic itself made his hand twitch without his control. He held it to himself and waited for it to calm. Once it finally did, he looked up to see all eyes on him, staring with an intensity even he had never faced before. 

Cassandra broke the tense silence by asking, “How do you think we should proceed?” 

“Oh, _now_ you’re asking me what _I_ think?” Lias tried to ask sarcastically, but he voice was rougher than he meant. 

“You have the mark,” Solas pointed out, as if that should settle the matter. 

“And you are the one we must keep alive,” Cassandra added. “Since we cannot agree on our own…”

Strange to think a prisoner would be the one to make decision like this. Lias looked down at Avery, who had stood quietly beside him the entire time. She looked back curiously but said still said nothing. He turned to Varric and Solas behind him, but they offered nothing, only waited for his answer. It would truly be his decision to make. 

Normally Lias would be all for a secret route to skirt around the enemy. What rogue wouldn’t be tempted by the idea? But there were too many unknowns. If a scouting party hadn’t returned, that’s because something blocked their way. It could be a rift, it could be stray demons, or it could be something else altogether. They’d be alone facing whatever it was, in possibly tight quarters. That could also limit the effectiveness of their mages and possibly their marksman, for fear of hitting one of their own. Charging would have the advantage of soldiers at their back, and a battlefield would always feel like familiar turf. He also didn’t think they had the time to waste trying to take an indirect route. 

“I say we charge,” Lias said. “I won’t survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now.” 

Leliana didn’t seem pleased, but she made no move to object. Cassandra seemed to like the decision at least. 

“Leliana. Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone,” Cassandra said. 

Leliana gave a nod and left to go speak with one of the scouts nearby. 

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker,” Roderick said ominously, before stalking off into one of the tents. 

Cassandra stared after the man, then let out a long, suffering sigh. Once she seemed to collect herself, she turned towards their small traveling group. 

“We’ll take a moment to rest and resupply,” she said. “Take what supplies you need. We’ll head out shortly.” 

She then walked off to speak with soldiers, seemingly unworried about leaving the prisoners with an apostate and apparent ex-prisoner. Lias looked to the others, unsure what to do after being left alone so suddenly. 

“I’ll see if I can get us something to eat or drink,” Varric said with friendly cheer. “Rations are better than nothing.” 

He headed towards the Chantry Sister handing out food. Solas, without a word of explanation, walked away to go speak with a soldier sorting through supplies. Avery took the opportunity to sit down on a barrel, and Lias decided to follow suit. 

They were both silent, taking time to decompress for a moment. So much happened, it was nice to just breathe. He looked over at Avery again and saw her sitting with her eyes closed, taking deep breathes herself. She looked so tired, even more than Lias felt. He was running high on fear and borderline panic ever since he woke. Avery looked like she was only moving forward with shear will and grim determination. 

Lias worried for a moment that perhaps he should have chosen the mountain path. Going into a battle might not be the easiest thing for Avery, and he wondered if she would make it. His logic was sound, and she didn’t complain. The decision was made, and he doubted he could change it now, but he couldn’t help but wonder all the same. 

He also belatedly realized it was the first time they had been alone together. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. It was hard to bring up around Cassandra, and he couldn’t be sure if Avery would even answer honestly with her around. Now that they were alone, he decided to get some answers. 

“So—”

“Rations are pretty tight right now, but I managed to get you some clean water,” Varric said as he returned. He held out two waterskins for them to take. 

Lias was a little peeved to be interrupted, but the idea of water suddenly made his throat feel parched. He’d been thirsty since the moment he woke, but it was easy to ignore the in midst of all that happened. Now, he gratefully took a waterskin and drank from it. He was careful not to drain it, aware that it was possibly the only water he would be getting for a while. 

“I noticed the Seeker didn’t think to give you any before leaving Haven,” Varric said, sarcastic bitterness in his tone. He handed the other one to Avery, who also immediately drank from it, thought not as eagerly. 

The dwarf made himself comfortable leaning against the side of the bridge. He let them take some more time to refresh, but he didn’t make much effort to pretend he wasn’t watching them both with interest. Solas rejoined the group shortly after Varric, holding a small satchel of supplies. 

“There was little to spare, but we have two more healing potions, a poultice, and two lyrium potions,” Solas reported in a very neutral voice. 

“I’ve worked with less,” Lias said with a bitter grin. 

“I imagine your skill in healing will be of importance to us,” Solas said to Avery. 

Avery, who had been staring blankly at the waterskin in her hands, looked up briefly at Solas, then looked down again when she met Solas’ gaze. She gave a nod and was seemingly done with the interaction. It would have felt like a dismissive action, had she clearly not had a lot on her mind. 

“So, Avery,” Varric said, getting her attention on him. “The big guy says he can’t remember anything about what happened.” 

“And you’d think that’s the kind of thing a guy would remember,” Lias joked lightly, trying to ignore the churning feel in his stomach at the not knowing. 

“Do you remember?” Varric asked the question Lias had desperately wanted to know the answer to. 

Avery didn’t answer right away. She looked briefly at Lias, then back at her hands. The topic seemed to make her a little uneasy as well, though he wondered if it was for the same reasons. 

“You mentioned to the Seeker and Sister Leliana that you could not remember, did you not?” Solas asked with a tone of polite interest, but his eyes focused on Avery with a sharp clarity

“I… cannot remember anything about the Conclave,” Avery admitted. “There are memories before, of traveling, but then everything… disappears. A nothing where there should be something. And then a dungeon.” 

It was a disappointing answer, but it didn’t feel like an untruthful one. She remembered as much as he did it seemed. Things would have been so much simpler if Avery could clue everyone in on what happened, and they could go hunt down a real suspect. Life didn’t like being that easy. 

“And you two didn’t come to the Conclave together?” Varric asked, clearly trying to piece together things in his mind. 

“You know, I get that we were the only two that survived, but how does that make us in any way related?” Lias asked incredulously. “We just met in the lovely dungeons below the Chantry. Someone like me doesn’t exactly get close with mysterious human mages on daily occasions.” 

“Fair enough,” Varric conceded with a wave of his hand. “Can’t really blame people for thinking otherwise though.” 

“Reports say you were holding on to each other when you fell out of the Fade,” Solas explained. “You apparently held a tight grip, even after you passed out.” 

The information made Lias pause. He obviously had no memory of the events, but he did have a brief flash of something before. He remembered he was desperately holding on to something, the desperate feeling of needing to keep moving. He remembered being chased. Were they both running away from something in Fade? It made sense, but he couldn’t shake the strangeness of it all. That would mean he and Avery had met, some time between him reaching Haven and Lias waking in dungeon, but that memory was lost to him. Whatever their connection had been, it was gone. 

He looked to Avery, who was looking at him with a similar, muted sort of confusion. When their eyes met, she raised her left arm and silently pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The three men stared at her pale arm, taking in the darkened bruise on her forearm. It was shaped sort of hand-like, and large enough to wrap around her forearm. Lias even held his right hand beside her arm, comparing the size. Undoubtedly, it was Lias who had caused that bruise. It seemed more like he dragged her out of the rift than them both clinging to each other. 

“Our men will be ready shortly,” Cassandra cut in, returning to the group. “We will head out with a small squad while Leliana gathers the remainder of our people to join us at the temple.” 

“I’m guessing there are rifts waiting for us,” Lias said ruefully. 

“The main fight is around one rift,” Cassandra explained. “It’s larger than the ones we’ve seen so far, and the demons are stronger. We have done what we could, but all the soldiers have been able to do is stem the tide.” 

“Wonderful.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took longer than i wished to finish the last part. I went back and forth whether or not i should include so much in-game dialogue, but i went with it in the end because i want lias to react a little, but not have to weirdly cut or summarize whole conversations. so to make up, i went a little longer on the chapter
> 
> aaalso i posted some concept art sketchs of[ Lias](http://apatheticallyawful.tumblr.com/post/171739173304/another-character-design-sketch-im-definitely) and [Avery](http://apatheticallyawful.tumblr.com/post/171718549464/sketches-to-figure-out-character-design-rough) over on my tumlr. i'm probably gonna edit lias' design more, but let me know if you want to see more art. i have a few more i'm working on if you'd like to see them


	9. The Breach

9\. The Breach

The break couldn’t last as long as they would have wanted, and they began the trek towards the battlefield. They were accompanied by a small squad of soldiers, who would rush the field with them and the soldiers already fighting. All the others were preparing for the possibility of another fight at the temple, or something else unforeseen. 

The trek itself was fairly quiet. The soldiers either had the nervous energy of raw recruits going into their first battle, which was possible, or experienced fighters weary to face what’s to come. Lias noticed that a few looked banged up, and two were sporting bandages that suggested more troubling injuries. They were desperate enough to send injured soldiers back out on the field, so Lias could only begin to imagine how dicey things were going to be going forward. 

They arrived at what looked like a proper forward camp. There some tents lined up, supplies, and other makeshift necessities to keep a fight going. It was bare bones, and hastily constructed. It wasn’t the type of thing Lias saw often, since mercenaries don’t typically take long and drawn-out jobs. The fighting at the rift almost felt like a proper battle, the beginnings of a proper war. He really hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Hopefully they could cut down the demons, he could seal a rift, and the battle at the forward camp would be over. There’d be the whole Breach thing to deal with after that, but one step at a time. 

There were so many dead bodies. Corpses on the journey there, corpses lined up in the camp, and there was likely to be corpses on the battlefield. There were several injured, being poorly tended to by a brave Chantry Sister with limited supplies. How many were lost during the fighting alone? 

“Be wary,” Solas warned. “Another Fade rift.”

Cassandra and the soldiers started heading for a large door, a part of a wall of the temple that somehow survived the explosion. Was it an entrance? It must be well built for it to still stand, and now he had doubts that humans built it. Not that it was particularly important, at the moment. 

Sounds of battle grew louder the further they went. Beyond the wall was the wreckage of what remained of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Debris, blackened ground, rock jutting up sharply, a completely unrecognizable landscape where an ancient building once stood. There was so much to take in, but the fight before them was what they needed to focus on.

There were more demons than they’d seen from a rift before, and they were stronger still than the ones before. Cassandra rushed in, going to the aid of a human man in more personalized armor than the rank and file soldiers with them. Lias took a less direct route, aiming to pick off demons distracted by the others. He could already hear the sound of Varric’s crossbow firing. A cool wave of magic swept over him as a barrier appeared around him, stronger than the ones before. He could see similar shimmers of magic over Cassandra, the blonde man she fought beside, and another soldier near them. 

They took out the demons, the fighters focusing on the shades and the mages aiming for the wraiths. It was easier for mages to hit their strange, ethereal forms than it was to try and stab them with a blade. There was a brief moment of reprieve, though Lias feared it wouldn’t last too long. The last rift had the demons come in two waves, and there was every chance the new rift would be the same.

The rift reacted, seeming to tear a little wider, stretching and flaring erratically. It was hard to stare at for too long. It was also impossible to close when Lias tried, as he saw more forms coming through, gaining shape in front of them.

“How many rifts _are_ there?” Varric shouted in exasperation. 

Lias hoped they were looking at the last one besides the Breach, but it was hard to be optimistic.

“We must seal it if we are to get past!” Solas shouted, as if that weren’t already obvious.

Lias retreated from the rift, trying to put distance between himself and the new demons. He moved to a spot in front of Avery and a soldier she was trying to help, and he held his weapons at the ready. There was a quiet, nerve-wracking moment before the demons appeared, during which everyone prepared themselves for another fight. When the demons finally showed, there were only two of them, but they were larger than any of the demons Lias had ever seen before. They had long, spindly limbs and a gaping maw. Behind him he heard Avery say something he couldn’t understand, and a barrier formed around him once again.

“Andraste’s ass,” the soldier cursed. “What is that?!”

“A Terror demon,” she said loud enough for the others to hear, though her voice sounded raspy. “It will prey on fear, try to make you panic. Keep a close eye on them.”

With that lovely bit of knowledge, she launched a quick attack, sending deadly bolts of flame towards the closest demon and lighting it on fire. It let out a loud shriek that made its approaching attackers flinch back. It sounded so much like the cries of a deepstalker, magnified by a hundred. The things swung fearsome claws, and one hit a soldier straight across the face, ripping him open. They would have to be sure to dodge, or make good use of a shield, to not end up the same. 

Cassandra had the attention of the one Avery had lit on fire, and they were wearing it down. Lias joined in, slicing at its legs in an attempt to weaken in. It turned to swipe at him, and when he dodged, Cassandra struck it in the side. 

“Maker, where’d it go?!” Lias heard someone scream from a good distance away, where the other soldiers were fighting the second demon.

He decided to just keep an eye on the enemy in front of him, but he soon began to understand the reason for Avery’s warning to keep on eye on them. Before they could understand what was going on, the missing demon appeared from nothing, jumping from the solid ground. It knocked down both Lias and Cassandra, and its screeching left them momentarily stunned. It was long enough for the demon they had been fighting to take advantage and strike.

Cassandra took the brunt of the blow, having the wherewithal to angle her shield to deflect the razor-sharp claws. The second demon was suddenly frozen, encased in ice, and three quick successive crossbow bolts landed in the first one’s back, drawing its attention. Lias and Cassandra quickly took the opportunity to get back on their feet and make their own attacks. Cassandra went for the frozen one, slamming her shield into the ice. Lias went for the distracted one, taking a leap and sinking both blades into its exposed back. 

The blonde man rushed over, attacking the demons with skill and ferocity. Between two seasoned warriors, two quick-hitting rogues, two powerful mages, and the remainder of the soldiers, the fight was soon over. They’d learned not to give the demons the opportunity to get away, or to start screeching again. When the human man put his sword through the last demon, Lias immediately raised his hand to seal the rift. It connected, as before, painful and then beyond pain, a struggle, and then it sealed closed.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas commented as he approached Lias. “You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

There was a look on his face Lias couldn’t quite understand. It looked like relief, but there was something else underneath. He looked into Lias’ eyes, gaze so scrutinizing it made Lias’ skin crawl.

“Let’s hope it works on the big one,” Varric said.

Avery was a short distance away, and Lias looked over in time to see her get refused by a wounded soldier when she offered her help. The fool would rather bleed out than be healed by a mage. Or was it because she was a prisoner? She stared at the soldier for a moment, then turned away with a word and went to where Lias, Solas, and Varric stood. 

Cassandra began to approach them but was stopped a few feet away by the blonde man.

“Lady Cassandra,” he called. “You managed to close the rift? Well done.”

“Do not congratulate me, Commander,” Cassandra said. “This is the prisoner’s doing.”

She gestured towards Lias, and he took that as a queue to step forward. The man’s eyes bored into him. He, like Cassandra, seemed to have no fear of facing someone who towered over him. He was sizing Lias up, assessing him as if he were an enemy. To this man, Lias was the enemy, until someone proved otherwise. 

“Is it?” He asked tersely. “I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” Lias said with a sigh. “I’ll try my best, though.”

“That’s all we can ask,” the Commander said.

The man looked behind Lias at Avery, who was staring back. There was clear displeasure on the Commander’s face, but Avery’s expression did show much of anything. Just a refusal to look away at being stared down. It was the man who turned away first, giving Cassandra a hard look.

“I suppose it necessary to bring the mage as well?” He asked, with a sarcasm that was hard to miss.

Cassandra returned the hard look and simply said, “It’s not important at the moment. She has agreed to help seal the Breach for now.”

Had she? Lias remembered being asked, and agreeing, but he couldn’t remember Avery being asked. She did seem to want to help, though, so maybe the specifics weren’t important.

“The way to the temple should be clear,” the man said, willing to let the subject drop. “Leliana will try to meet you there.”

“Then we’d best move quickly,” said Cassandra. “Give us time, Commander.”

“Maker watch over you – for all our sakes,” the Commander said.

He left them with those parting words and went to help the wounded soldier from before off the battlefield. With the rift closed, demons wouldn’t be swarming the area, but there were likely to be more in the area surrounding the temple. Lias guessed that the Commander’s soldiers would be patrolling for demons around the temple while they went in to seal the Breach.

Cassandra led them on again, and soon the scent of burning flesh became stronger. There’d been wafts on the wind before they reached that point. They stood in the charred, crumbling remains of what was once a grand temple and were surrounded by bodies, some still burning, twisted in various poses of agony. It was hard to look at, seeing unrecognizable forms of what was once people.

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Solas said solemnly.

“What’s left of it,” Varric said softly. 

“That is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you,” Cassandra said to Lias and Avery, pointing somewhere nearby. “They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.”

Lias couldn’t really remember the place, or anything about a woman. He didn’t even remember Avery, though they clearly saw each other before they woke up as prisoners. 

A silence fell over the group, as if they were all afraid to disturb the dead. It was hard to be at the site of such destruction and death and not feel some sorrow. Lias forced himself to look at the bodies, those still intact, to be sure. They were all small and hornless, and the relief he felt was smothered by his guilt for it. There were also some bodies that still looked fresh, uncharred and the blood was still pooled around them.

They found a hallway still in one piece and walked through it. They came to a large opening, sunk down and surrounded by some remaining parts of walls and broken columns. In the center, floating high in the air was another rift. It was larger than the others, and there was magic… _something_ connecting from it all the way into the Breach.

“The Breach is a long way up,” Varric remarked. 

They stopped at the edge of what must have been a railing and peered up at the sky. The Breach certainly was a long way up… It was massive. Swirling, pulsing with wild magic. Looking into it felt like… It was a hard feeling to describe. There was the fear, the worry, the certainty in the knowledge that it was wrong, but the way it made Lias’ skin crawl… the sensation of falling when he stared right into the center of it… Lias wasn’t sure he’d have to words to describe it to anyone, if he’d even wanted to. He had to look away, if only to maintain his sanity.

To his right stood Avery, head tilted far back to stare just as he had. She was leaning slightly on her staff, holding it with a white-knuckled grip. All her focus was on the Breach, staring with an intensity Lias hadn’t expected. Her eyes were wide, and in the reflection of the green one he could see a reflection of the swirling sky. As he watched, he could see a shift in her demeanor. Where there had been wonder and searching, he could also see fear and maybe even anger. She reminded Lias of an animal with its hackles raised.

“You’re here! Thank the Maker.” Leliana approached from behind, leading a group of soldiers and scouts.

With people in position to back them up, it seemed the plan was to seal rift in hopes it would seal the Breach. Solas thought it would work, and Cassandra was dead set on trying. 

Cassandra decided to take a safe path down, after giving Lias a very disapproving look when he started sizing the drop down. He would have made it fine, probably, but there really was no telling with the others. When they moved, Lias noticed that Avery still had not moved from her spot, attention rapt on the sky above. Varric had to gently push her back to get her to move with them, which shook her out of her revere.

The path down revealed some interesting things. Varric pointed out some glowing red lyrium, calling it evil with such distain and Lias had to wonder about the story behind that. Voices began to echo through the ruins, startling them all, though he was pleased to see they weren’t the jumpy type. The voice was deep and commanding, and they also heard the cries of help from a woman. Divine Justinia, as Cassandra revealed in disbelief. 

Lias dropped down to the group beneath the rift. The mark on his hand flared in response to it. Echoes of voices played again. 

“Someone, help me!” The Divine’s voice echoed again.

“What’s going on here?” Lias’ own voice echoed in response, startling him.

Cassandra immediately turned to him, confusion and some amount of accusation clear in her expression. “That was your voice,” she said. “Most Holy called out to you. But…”

Before Cassandra can continue with that thought, the rift flares and a bright light momentarily blinds everyone. Above them, floating in the air, were two spectral forms. One was the Divine, if the big hat was anything to go by. She appeared to be bound by some sort of magic, floating helplessly. In front of her a large, looming black figure stepped into being. Nothing about its form was solid, just a writhing mass of blackness, but there were two glowing red eyes staring intently at the Divine. 

Doors, barely there in the spectral image, were thrown open. Lias saw his own form, armor still fresh, vitaar still on his face, and weapons still on hand, rush in. 

“What’s going on here?” Spectral Lias demanded, before stepping back in what he guessed was horror. 

“Run while you can!” Divine Justinia cried. “Warn them!”

The looming figure didn’t give Spectral Lias the time to even consider what to do.

“We have an intruder,” it said. It pointed a long finger at Lias. “Slay the qunari.”

The floating forms were gone as suddenly as they appeared. Cassandra looked distraught. She turned her attention back on Lias and began bombarding him with questions.

“You were there!” She took a step towards him and stared up with a piercing gaze. “Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

“I don’t remember!” Lias nearly shouted, only barely able to restrain himself.

It was such a strange occurrence, watching a vision of your own self. Lias couldn’t even recall the event. And it was _the_ event, he was sure. The lead up to the whole explosion, the weird thing on his hand, the Breach. It was there, it had played out in front of him, and he couldn’t remember.

“Where were you? Were you there?” Cassandra turned on Avery, still trying to find something to make sense of. 

Avery only gave a confused look, glancing between the spot where the spectral forms had been, to Lias, and back to Cassandra. She opened her mouth, as if to answer, but nothing came out. She gave a vague gesture symbolizing she didn’t know either.

“Echoes of what happened here,” Solas explained. “The Fade bleeds into this place.”

Solas walked forward, closer to rift and stared up at it. He turned back towards the others, looking at Lias, then Cassandra.

“This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily,” Solas continued explaining. “I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

“That means demons. Stand ready!” Cassandra helpfully shouted to the soldiers and archers in the surrounding area.

Conversation about what happened and who was responsible fell to the wayside. Everyone readied themselves for a fight. It was nerve-wracking to not know what to expect, besides it being demons, possibly a shitload.

Solas and Avery moved closer to the walls, to get some distance, and they were spread several feet apart. Varric stayed on the ground with them, unlike the other archers, though he distanced himself too, not far from Avery. Leliana still stood on the ledge, right on the edge so she could drop down if need be. Cassandra took up position right in the center, ready to greet whatever came to see them. The archers took point all around on higher ground, and the soldiers made a loose circle, though they were unsure of where their enemy who appear. Lias stood under the rift, waiting until everyone was in position before raising his hand to open the rift.

Opening a rift was different, once he was connected to it. There was already a tear, though poorly closed, and he could feel the seams. To open it, he had to push the magic of the mark between the seams and rip it open. Lias didn’t know a lot about magic, but even he could tell the way he did it was probably clumsy, but it wasn’t as if any of the others were really in a position to call him out for it.

When the rift opened, the giant form of a demon immediately began to take shape. Before them stood a pride demon, a type of demon Lias had only seen once before. That one had been bound in a ruin for ages and was weakened. This one was fresh from the Fade and still connected to it, if the past rifts were anything to go by. He felt a sense of dread when he realized how tough the fight would be, especially since everyone there was already tired from the last few hours or days. 

It was a very difficult fight. The demon took almost no damage at first, but it still dealt out plenty. Lias had to disengage and try to stealthily disrupt the rift before the demon realized what he was doing. Once he did, the demon was vulnerable to attack, and it even became momentarily stunned. They threw everything at it, everyone attacking, save Avery. She’d taken to healing and keeping barriers, freeing Solas to focus on offensive magic. The fight stretched on longer than Lias would like. The demon would rebuild its barrier, and Shades would come through, distracting or sneaking up on those unaware. 

Everyone was tiring. Lias barely dodged a whip of lighting, but he still felt some effects of the lighting. Some of the soldiers weren’t so lucky. Cassandra took hits like a great warrior should, but there was only so long someone could hold out. Varric had a demon sneak up on him, catching him in the back with its claws, and Avery used a lot of her magic getting him back on his feet. Solas sent out one attack after the other, and Lias saw him downing a lyrium potion so he could keep going. When the fight finally ended, it wasn’t a moment too soon. 

“Do it, now!” Cassandra yelled at him from across the battlefield. 

,p>While he was inclined to just take a break first and rest, he knew she was right. If they didn’t close the rift now, there would be more demons, just as tough or worse. He had to do it, then and there. He took up position closer to the rift, and the others moved close to him, waiting, hoping. He even heard a murmured prayer. Avery stood to his left, slighting in front, and gave a reassuring nod.

He lifted his hand and made the mark connect to the rift. The connection felt, _so much_. Too much to understand, to take in. When made the same attempt to close the rift as he’d done before, it was so much harder. Like he was reaching past the rift, through to its connection to the Breach. It was too much for him to handle. He could feel his strength waning, could feel his body growing numb. It was too much. He was going to die trying to seal the Breach.

* * *

He was turning pale, a disturbingly pallid grey. The Breach was too massive for one mortal to close all on his own. He wasn’t even a mage. He only had the magic of the mark on his hand, and it could only do so much on its own.

Lias stood tall, teeth gritted and eyes watering as he tried to seal the Breach. He had to hold his own left arm to keep it steady. His legs began to shake. 

The others stood watching the Breach with desperate hope in their eyes. Everyone wanted the Breach gone, Avery included. Maybe especially. Still, she wondered if they realized the struggle right in front of them. They were pushing him to do this, but there was no way it could be done. Even if he gave all his life’s energy to it.

She stepped forward while everyone’s attention was elsewhere, downing a lyrium potion with a grimace. Only Leliana’s sharp eyes followed her, and she worried for a fleeting moment that she would wind up with an arrow through her heart before she could reach her goal. The Nightingale only watched, though her hands still held her bow. 

Avery placed herself next to Lias, facing the Breach with him. She reached up to grip his forearm, which had been lowering even with his other arm griping it hold it up. She raised it as high as she could, and Lias looked at her quickly in surprise. She began to pour her magic into him, connecting to the mark and pushing more power into it. It wouldn’t seal the Breach, she knew that for sure when she felt the sheer immensity of it, but it might help put a dent in it. 

It was hard to concentrate as her energy, her mana, began to drain. Even with the lyrium potion, there was only so much magic her body could handle. They were both waning, but Avery couldn’t stand the idea of pulling away before Lias. If he was going to give his everything to seal the Breach into the Fade, then she would do the same, even if it meant her life. 

The connection was suddenly severed. Lias’ arm went slack, falling back to his side. The rift slammed closed, and a massive amount of magic, perhaps their own combined energy, traveled up to the Breach. The energy from it sent a small shockwave around them, kicking up dust and ash. Lias stumbled back, and Avery tightened her grip. A bright light flashed through the sky, lighting up the darkened sky, causing everyone to close or shade their eyes. 

When Avery opened her eyes, she looked up to Lias, who had taken a step in her direction. He was right in front of her, nearly toe-to-toe. From so close she could just how pale his normally dark grey skin had turned, all color drained. His golden eyes were glazed and slightly unfocused. He was sweating, though Avery could feel how cold he was. The mark on his hand was still flaring, still dancing with unused energy. 

She was wondering how he was still standing after the amount of energy he gave, considering how drained and weak she felt, when Lias’ legs gave out beneath him. He began to fall, and Avery’s arms darted out to slide under his. For a short moment, she’d stopped him from falling, but under his weight her own weakened legs gave out and they both fell to the ground. Avery’s left hand scraped on the ground as she tried and failed to keep herself from falling on her back, and Lias’ head hit against her mouth, splitting her bottom lip open.

She lay there with a large qunari man passed out on top of her, fighting off the urge to follow him to the darkness of sleep. She stared up at the sky, seeing the Breach still there. It didn’t look as turbulent as it was before, though it was still there. A small part of her had hoped Lias really could seal it, even if she knew logically that was impossible. It was foolish to feel disappointed.

Faces appeared above her, people coming to help. Solas was first, looking down at her to see she was still awake, then a hand on Lias’ neck to be sure he still had a pulse. Thankfully, he looked satisfied with his findings. When Cassandra appeared, she helped pull Lias off of Avery. There were words being exchanged, orders being shouted, but Avery couldn’t quite bring herself to focus. She could only keep her eyes open and try to fight the sleep.

Some time after, she was unsure exactly how long, she felt some being pressed to her lip. Varric was kneeling beside her, pressing a cloth—a handkerchief? —to her busted lip. He said something that she couldn’t quite catch and gave her a tired smile. She tried to focus then, to listen to him, but she only caught parts of Cassandra’s angry voice.

“—trying to do? How… trying to stop… reason it failed.” It was all Avery could understand Cassandra saying. Not to mention, her accent seemed to get thicker when she got heated. 

“I believe she was trying to help him close the Breach.” She heard Solas’ voice explaining clearly from somewhere to her left. He began another explanation of how or why, and from what Avery could gather he was actually advocating for her actions. 

Varric lifted her head and tried to get her to swallow a health potion. She waved it off, and he reluctantly let it slide. There were so many others who needed it, and she was just exhausted, not really injured. 

Eventually people came with a stretcher to carry Lias away. Cullen showed up again, ordering the soldiers around. Leliana walked with Lias, keeping a close eye on him, as did Solas. Cassandra loomed over Avery, Varric said something snarky, probably, and Cassandra let out a big sigh. She squatted down and scooped Avery up, lifting her without problem and began following the others.

Avery remembered looking at the Breach, still swirling, before falling to darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra Pentaghast could deadlift anyone in the Inquisition, except for maybe The Iron Bull, and I love her for it. Also have any of ya'll ever read the codex for Terror Demons? That's some fucked up shit, but really interesting.
> 
> We're done with the Breach part of the prologue! Finally. Sorry again if anything felt rushed, or if it had too many in-game dialogue for your liking. For cutscenes, I will probably be adding a lot of those lines, but I will try to add some new things. For some other in-game stuff, I'll probably try to expand on it if I include it. 
> 
> If you see any typos or serious grammar mistakes, feel free to tell me! I try to edit, but you know how it goes. Also, if you ever want to ask any questions about the story, I will try to get better at replying to comments. You could also message me on Tumblr. Also... Over 800 hits and 60+ kudos... Thank you guys, really... I wasn't expecting much interest when I starting posting, but knowing someone wants to read and all the sweet comments really make me want to keep writing, which I've really needed to do. So, sincerely, thank you!


	10. Hope

The mood in Haven shifted dramatically once they returned from the Temple of Sacred Ashes. News spread fast about what happened on the mountain. Everyone had already seen the flash of magic, even all the way in Haven, but it wasn’t clear to everyone what was happening. The news that the Breach had stopped growing and wasn’t spitting out demons had many optimistically celebrating. It was a shock to everyone that a prisoner they all vilified was the one who saved them from the threat of the Breach. More still, it seemed he was the only one with the ability to seal the Breach entirely. 

The humans in charge decided to move the unconscious prisoners to a cabin instead of putting them back in the dungeon. The cabin was put under constant guard, and only healers and servants approved by Leliana were allowed to enter. With the unsteady reactions from the people of Haven, it was a wise decision to make. 

Solas was among those allowed to come and go freely, as he was the only one with any knowledge of the mark. Adan, the healer who wasn’t a healer but was forced to play one anyway, was also one of the few allowed. Thankfully one or two other healers had returned from the camps further in the mountains and were able to relieve him from being the sole caretaker of the prisoners. 

Solas was on his way to the cabin when Varric waved him over. The dwarf had set up a tent right in the middle of Haven near a fire after the Seeker had informed him there wasn’t a lot of room in Haven. Perhaps she hoped it would dissuade him from staying, but within an hour he had procured a tent and set it up there. The look on her face had been amusing. 

“Not as many going in and out as yesterday,” Varric started without preamble. “How are they doing?” 

“Well enough, last I checked,” Solas said. “They were both sleeping.” 

“Is the mark still…?” Varric trailed off, making vague hand motions. 

“It has calmed considerably since we returned to Haven,” Solas said. “I believe it is no longer spreading.” 

“That’s… good to hear,” Varric said with a soft sigh. “And the girl?” 

“Simply exhausted,” Solas said. “I believe even before the Conclave she wasn’t in the best of health.” 

“They’ve been through a rough time,” Varric said with a tone of sympathy. 

“I imagine it will only get worse,” said Solas. 

“True,” said Varric. “You’ve heard with they’ve started calling them?” 

“I’ve heard,” Solas said as blandly as he could. 

The dwarf stared at Solas, trying to get a read on him. Whether or not he got the answer he wanted, Varric just smiled his charming smile. 

“Sorry, Chuckles,” he said. “Don’t let me keep you.” 

Leaving Varric at his campfire, Solas headed towards the cabin. Two soldiers stood at the door, keeping watch. They were dressed in inornate Fereldan style armor and not Templar gear, as the previous guards were the last time Solas visited the cabin. They were still Templars, that much was easy to tell, but they dressed the part of ordinary soldiers. He wondered if there was a reason for it, since it seemed they had made a point to have a show of the Templars being there before. Perhaps it was due to the positive whisperings around Haven regarding the occupants of the cabin. The humans must have wanted to appear at least somewhat trusting. 

The guards gave Solas a look-over before letting him through. The cabin was fairly spacious, and it could easily fit several people, as the other cabins in Haven currently did. It was outfitted well, with a desk, shelves, even what some would say passed for decor. There was a double bed, which had been present when they first brought the prisoners to the cabin. The qunari occupied that one, and another smaller bed had been brought in for the human since Solas had visited the day before. 

It was empty in the cabin, as there were no healers crowded inside as of that moment. A fire blazed in the fireplace, keeping the chill from the mountain snow at bay. The qunari slept more peacefully than he had in the dungeon, face no longer twisted in pain. He was stripped down to just his trousers, but the cold didn’t seem bother him. 

On the other side of the room, in the furthest corner, the human sat, finally awake. There was little doubt she would wake first, considering her ailments were the draining of her mana and extreme exhaustion. She sat with her back against the wall, hugging her knees with her head buried to hide her face. From where Solas stood at the entrance he could hear muffled sniffles. As he walked forward, they grew quieter and she seemed to shrink into herself. Not open to speaking quite yet, it would seem. 

Solas sat a chair beside the qunari and quietly began his work. He allowed her a moment to gather herself as he studied the mark. 

The magic had calmed considerably since he sealed the rift connected to the Breach. It hadn’t closed the Breach, but it had stabilized it. The Breach stopped growing and the magic in his hand did as well. It had been a foolish hope to expect the Breach to be sealed so quickly, by one mortal with no magical aptitude. Still, it had served to buy them time, and it proved that it was possible to use the mark to seal the Breach. 

The mark had drained the qunari of so much energy, it was a surprise his body had not gone into shock and killed him. Had the human not offered her own magic before the connection was severed, perhaps he truly would not have made it. There was no way to be certain, or course. 

He sat back in his chair and slowly began healing the flesh of the hand and arm. While healing wasn’t Solas’ forte, he was more than capable of such tasks. He just wasn’t well suited to healing during combat. It was never something he had preferred. 

“Is something the matter?” Solas asked softly, finally decided to make the attempt. 

There were a few beats of silence, followed by a sniffle and an answer. 

“‘Tis nothing,” she said, voice slightly muffled. 

It was an obvious lie, but he felt no need to pry. Though, he wondered if he shouldn’t try to endear himself to her. Opinions were still torn on the prisoners. There were many already praising the one with the mark, but there were some who praised her as well. 

“There is… a lot,” she answered again. Solas waited, but it did not seem like she would elaborate. 

Her attention was on the qunari, and on Solas holding his left hand. She looked… concerned, if he was reading the expression right. For a human, she was a hard one to read. 

“Closing the rift took much out of him,” Solas offered. “The mark is stable now, as is the Breach. He should wake in time.” 

She nodded, slowly straightening up to look around the cabin. There were still tear marks on her face, but she paid little mind. She gave Solas a curious look. 

“You were both brought to a cabin back in Haven,” he said, hoping to answer her unspoken question. 

She seemed to not be one to speak much. She relied on subtle nonverbal cues to get some things across. There was no doubt it would cause trouble for her in the future. There would be few that would be willing to spare her the courtesy of trying to understand what she wanted. 

There was silence again. Avery began staring off into space, already seemingly lost in thought. 

With the mark as stable and its host healed, Solas’ work for the morning was through. He thought it best to leave Avery with her thoughts. She would need to gather herself before she faced the inevitable prodding of the humans in the charge. 

“There are guards outside, should you need them, and the healers should return soon,” he said. “I believe they’ll want you to rest. I make sure they bring food as well.” 

He stood and began to leave. He thought perhaps she had chosen to ignore him, but her eyes caught his before he completely turned away. 

“Thank you, Solas,” she said softly. 

* * *

The cabin remained quiet after Solas left. Avery could hear the crackling of the fire and the soft breathing of the man in the bed on the other side of the room. When she strained to listen, she could hear the sounds of the village outside, but it was still oddly quiet for it to be daylight. It was possible the village was smaller than she remembered when they first walk through, but all those soldiers and angry people had to be somewhere. Maybe the cabin was somewhere out of the way… 

She felt drained now and detached in that special way she had learned to be. Disassociated from what was happening around her, just observing like a curious bystander. It had been too much when she woke to the quiet and was forced to face her situation. Alone, save for an unconscious man, she found there was no reason to hold herself back. Crying could help for a moment, and it helped to relieve the stress of everything. She woke in a strange place, surrounded by angry people who thought she was guilty of a terrible crime, and the Veil was torn. So many people killed senselessly on both sides. 

She was alone. There were so many people, but they were strangers. They weren’t like her, perhaps in more ways than one. She doubted she could ever truly connect with any of them. Even if they could understand her, she doubted they would accept her. 

She looked over at the man on the other bed. A qunari. So… not human. Dwarves and elves were easier to accept. Shorter, sturdy humans and willowy, pointy-eared humans. It was easier to accept them as cultural differences than it was to accept such extreme biological ones. Qunari, though… it was harder for the brain to reconcile, though they were decidedly humanoid. Tall, naturally well-muscled, with grey skin and horns. She wondered what sort of texture the horns had. She could feel them herself, seeing as he was unconscious, but… that would be rude, wouldn’t it? There were boundaries in societies. 

Lias Adaar, he’d said his name was. They were tied together, in the eyes of the people. They’d never met before the Conclave. It would have been easy to push blame, or to resist helping until demands were met. He seemed… like a good person. Willing to do things that had to be done, to help. He’d been kind to her, not overly familiar, but he smiled and protected her when she couldn’t protect herself. The magic on his hand would be key in sealing the Breach and all the rifts that must have opened around Thedas in its wake. He would have a lot to do, if he chose to keep helping. She imagined he would have many more struggles if he chose not to. 

Avery slowly stood, bare feet feeling the slightly coarse fur of a pelt rug. Her head felt light, and she felt physically weak. It wasn’t a surprise, considering all that went on. Draining herself of that much magic wasn’t a smart idea, especially because she wasn’t fully aware of the effect it would have. That’s something she would have to remember from then on. She also wasn’t the best at remembering to feed herself before the whole… explosion thing. Which reminded her… when did she last eat? Some stale bread and questionable water in the cold, dank dungeon. Only some white goo she assumed was porridge before that. How long was she asleep after that? It couldn’t be healthy for her body. 

She stood in front of the fireplace, trying to warm herself, however useless that might prove to be. The cold felt like it sunk down into her bones, a deep-down chill ever since she woke in her cell. They had kindly given her thick, warm blankets, but they had also dressed her in a light night gown that felt too loose, and too long. It dragged at her ankles when it looked like it should stop mid-calf. Like when she was a little girl and she had to wear clothes her mother kept saying she would grow into. 

There was a soft knock at the door. She wondered briefly if she was supposed to answer it, but the door opened slightly before she could start to seriously worry about it. A young woman slipped inside, carrying a tray. She quickly closed the door to ward off the cold. When she looked up, she noticed Avery standing in front of the fireplace and a slightly panicked look took over her face. She shuffled a few steps forward, head bowed and eyes avoiding Avery’s. This was an elf, Avery belatedly realized. An elven servant. 

“I-I’ve brought you food, m-my lady,” the girl struggled to say. 

Everything about her was tense, and Avery wondered at the reason. Elven servants were taught to be timid, if she remembered correctly. There was also the chance people had been spreading horrible gossip and false tales about the prisoners. There had been many who seemed sure of Avery and Lias’ guilt. This girl was probably terrified of the monsters who killed the Divine. 

It might not help much, but Avery decided to put effort in appearing friendly. Or, at the very least, not doing anything to scare her further. 

“Thank you,” Avery said softly. She tried to smile kindly, but she feared it only came off as tired. Or maybe it looked like a grimace. 

It couldn’t have been too bad. The girl walked forward a few more steps. She looked at Avery, then quickly away. She was paused a few feet away, now looking both nervous and unsure. 

“W-would you like me to set it on the table, my lady?” she asked, gesturing towards a small wooden table. “Or, would you rather relax in bed?” 

“The table should be fine,” Avery answered. 

The girl set the tray down, uncovering it to reveal a steaming stew that looked leagues better than food they had served her before. Avery moved to sit down, and the girl backed away almost instantly, hands clenched and head bowed subserviently. It almost hurt to see, but Avery didn’t want to make the girl even more uncomfortable by calling the behavior out. She instead decided to start eating in silence. 

“Lady Cassandra… sh-she said…” The girl was looking anywhere but at Avery while she tried to speak. “She wants you to see her in the Chantry—when you can, of course! After you’ve finished eating and all…” 

Of course, it would have been too much to ask for the people here to simply forget about her and let her be. 

“Alright,” Avery said. Immediately she worries she had sounded too curt or dismissive, as the girl looked like she was trying to shrink into herself. 

“Then, I’ll leave you, my lady,” the girl said, bowing her head. 

“Ah…” Avery tried to grab the girl’s attention before she left. “My clothes…” 

Not that she couldn’t go out in the nightgown, but she did know that it wasn’t a polite thing to do. Not to mention how cold it would be out there. 

“Oh!” The girl looked so beside herself, hands ringing together again. “I’m so sorry, my lady! Yes! We’ve brought something for you.” 

She moved over to a chest of drawers, opening the bottom drawer, and pulled out some neatly folded clothes. She laid them out on the bed. 

“Lady Montilyet wanted to apologize,” the girl said, sounding absolutely contrite. “It’s all we could find on short notice that would fit you, my lady. I’m sure she will have something much more suitable for you soon!” 

They were a pair of leather leggings to serve as pants, a warm looking long-sleeved shirt, and a leather vest with simple embroidery. It was somewhat similar to what the girl wore, though it looked newer and of higher quality. She wondered if perhaps some poor elven woman had given up her nice new clothes for Avery to wear. 

“My clothes?” Avery asked, looking around in hopes of seeing them. Her clothes were very old and well worn, but they were hers. 

“Being washed and repaired, my lady,” the girl answered. “I’m sorry. Would you like for me to find something else?” 

“No, that is not necessary,” Avery said. “These are very nice. Thank you… What is your name?” 

“Mihri, my lady,” she said, looking surprised by the question. 

“Thank you, Mihri,” Avery repeated, trying to smile properly for the girl. 

There was still half a bowl of stew left, but Avery left it at the table in favor of moving to get dressed. Her stomach still felt queasy, and she hoped the feeling wouldn’t linger. A meeting in a Chantry with the people who imprisoned her would already be enough to worry about on its own. 

“Do you want me to help you, my lady?” Mihri asked when Avery picked up the leggings. 

“What?” The question had caught Avery off guard. “No, that… That will not be necessary.” 

“Sister Leliana returned some of your things,” Mihri said instead of insisting, as Avery was afraid she might. 

Mihri went to the entryway to retrieve something, and Avery took the opportunity to start changing. She slipped the leggings on and was tugging off the nightgown when the young elf walked back over. She was surprised to find nothing underneath, but with the vest it most likely would not be needed. Mihri didn’t seem at all bothered by the nudity, but she did steal a glance in Lias’ direction. 

She should worry about propriety, shouldn’t she? That was a normal thing to do. 

“My coat… and my boots.” Avery quickly put the shirt on, then reached for her things. 

The boots were old, well-worn brown leather that she never got around to patching. Knicks and cracking marred the surface of them. The decorative buckling had fallen off years ago, but they were still functionable. The coat was in a nearly similar state, but she had taken the time to at least make sure it stayed patched together. There were even some new patches. They were familiar things in an unfamiliar environment. 

“Did I have a bag?” Avery asked. 

“No, my lady, I-I don’t believe so,” Mihri answered, a bit confused. 

Avery nodded once and continued dressing. It would’ve been too much to hope. 

“The Chantry…” Avery began as she fiddled with the clasps on the vest. “The big building up the hill?” 

“Yes. I could walk with you there, if you’d like,” Mihri offered timidly. 

“That would probably be a good idea,” said Avery. 

Her boots slipped on easily, feet feeling at home in the well-worn soles. Her coat smelled clean, and when she worried for a moment. She reached inside the inner pocket and felt something still inside. Her pendant, still there, still safe. 

Mihri found a brush, and offered to fix Avery’s hair for her, but it was too much to worry about now. Running her finger through her hair, she could feel the tangles. It would probably take an hour to get all the knots out. Instead Avery opted to at least brush out the ends, pulling harder than the elf probably ever would have dared to. There was so much hair. She’d put off on cutting it, just choosing to braid it back every day. Maybe she would have time to worry about that later. 

Walking through the village was worse than she’d imagined. The path to the Chantry was easy, a simple matter of just moving upwards. There were people milling about, going about their daily lives. Just the cold wind and the noisy sounds of the village were bad enough. The people were worse. She didn’t like the way their eyes stuck. They watched her unabashedly, some even stopping what they were doing entirely. It made Avery’s skin crawl. 

The Breach still loomed in the sky, massive and swirling. At least it wasn’t fluctuating the way it was before. 

The Chantry was large, and it looked old. It had an odd atmosphere that was hard to put a finger on. There were Chantry people in their robes still around, some reciting the Chant of Light to each other. It felt somber, the way Avery felt in churches. It was lit by candles and smelled of incense. She didn’t see how it could give much comfort once you knew there was a dungeon underneath. Or what kind of history it held. 

Mihri walked her to the back, stopping before a closed wooden door. There was a guard standing by the door, dressed in full Templar armor. He stared down at them from the slit in his helm but said nothing. 

“M-my lady,” Mihri said lowly, quickly bowing and walking away. 

Avery stood in front of the door, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She was expected, so she could go in, couldn’t she? Was she expected to knock? Was there supposed to be some sort of rule for this? 

The Templar let out a huff. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard a muffled call to enter. He held it open, eyes watching Avery through the helm. Thankfully he felt more annoyed than angry or hateful. It was easier to shake off as she stepped pass him into the room. Without a word, the Templar closed the door again, leaving Avery. 

There were three women in the room. Cassandra, Leliana, and another beautiful woman she didn’t know. They all had a strong presence about them, unique to each of them. They all turned their attention to Avery when she walked in. Unwavering gazes trying to bore into her soul, looking for answers she wasn’t sure she was ready to give. 

“It is good you are awake,” Cassandra said. “We have more questions for you. It would make things easy if you would answer.” 

Her tone left no room for argument, but it was much calmer than the first time she’d been brought to the room for questioning. 

The three women stood on the other side of a large table with a map laid out on it. Avery recognized the words for “Orlais” and “Fereledan” on it, as they were written the largest. It was all hand draw and hand written. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the new woman said with a pleasant smile. “I am Josephine Montilyet. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress…?” 

“Avery Bennett,” she said. 

“Is Avery Bennett your full name?” Leliana asked. 

“Avery Rose Bennett,” she said after a short pause. It’d been ages since she even needed to remember her middle name. 

“And that is your real name?” Cassandra asked, staring Avery down. 

“It is,” she answered without hesitation. It was the only name she knew, that much she could be sure of. It was the name on her birth certificate. It was the name her mother shouted when she was angry. 

Josephine was holding a clipboard that seemed to have a candle holder on it. It was an interesting idea, but Avery couldn’t help but wonder how useful it was in the long run, what with the wax dripping off the candle. Josephine was writing as they all spoke, so it was obvious she was making a transcript of their conversation. 

“Now that things are calming down, my agents have had more opportunities to find information,” Leliana said. “We’ve found information about Lias Adaar. Who he is and why he was here.” 

She stood tall, staring down at Avery. The other two ladies said nothing. The atmosphere in the room was tense in a way Avery didn’t completely understand. 

“My agents could find no information about _you_ anywhere,” Leliana finally said. 

So, that was what the problem was. They were searching for information that didn’t exist. Lias’ had information to dig up because he had a life in Thedas. Avery wouldn’t be able to say the same about herself. The only information they would get about her was what she told them herself. For someone like Leliana, that probably wouldn’t sit well. 

“Where are you from?” Cassandra broke the silence first. 

“Far,” Avery said, hoping vainly they could drop it. 

“Where?” Cassandra repeated, showing that they clearly would not. 

“Far beyond Thedas,” Avery said. 

“From across the Amaranthine Ocean?” Josephine asked with interest. “Or beyond the Korcari Wilds?” 

“Just… far,” Avery said, beginning to feel uncomfortable at the questioning. “I do not know how far.” 

“How could you not know?” Cassandra asked with a hint of disgust in her voice. 

They probably thought Avery was trying not to answer them or was outright lying. She hadn’t lied once to them, but she would admit she never told the whole truth. She doubted they could understand it all. Even Avery didn’t. There was little hope they would just accept her truth. 

Avery stared down at her hands, choosing to stay quiet. 

“How long have you been in Thedas?” Josephine asked to break the silence. 

“I suppose… a long time, maybe?” Avery said noncommittedly. It was a hard question to answer. She didn’t even know if she knew the right answer. 

“Why were you at the Conclave?” Leliana finally asked. 

“To watch what happens,” Avery said. “It would have been important.” 

“Why were you there?” she asked again. “Were you alone?” 

“I went to watch,” Avery said again. “Just watch. I was alone. I am alone.” 

It was one of the first questions she asked herself when she woke up. Remembering had been difficult, and she was afraid she’d suffered serious head trauma. Eventually she remembered the time leading up to the conclave. She remembered traveling. For the life of her, she just could not remember what actually happened. 

They were suspicious of her, and while it was understanding, it would lead them nowhere. There was absolutely no chance that Avery was responsible for what happened at the Conclave. She had no interest in messing with this world’s politics. Even had she been told to or given the opportunity, she would have refused. The idea of them repeatedly questioning her already felt tedious. 

“If you believe nothing else, please believe I have no greater wish than to seal the Breach,” Avery said, trying to sound as earnest as possible. “I will do whatever it takes to close it.” 

And it was the truth. The one she was most sure of at the moment. The Breach needed to be closed. Everything else… could wait a little longer to be sorted out. 

“You can understand our position, can’t you?” Leliana asked. “We know nothing about you, or your motives.” 

“Those are my motives,” Avery said. “I cannot give you the answers you are looking for. I have nothing in this world.” 

The women seemed unsure how to follow up that statement. She thought it would be harder to say, but the words felt hollow. 

“I do not mind if your people watch me,” Avery offered. “Though I would prefer if they kept their distance.” 

She had little doubt Leliana would have someone watch her all hours of the day anyway. There were already guards posted outside the door. So long as their people let her walk around outside without someone babysitting her, she could ignore the feeling of being watched. 

“That does sound reasonable,” Josephine spoke up, looking to Leliana. When she gave no argument, Josephine continued. “We may have more questions for you later, but I imagine you are still tired from your venture up the mountain.” 

“Yes,” Avery said. “I would prefer to rest now.” 

She was tired. Not just in the way she always was, but physically she still felt weak. She’d been considering casting a regeneration spell to help move things along, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to start casting spells quite yet. 

“Of course, Lady Bennett,” Josephine said, completely serious 

“Avery,” she corrected, a displeased look on her face. 

“Avery,” Josephine corrected, a charming smile gracing her face. “If you’d prefer, I could have someone escort you back to your cabin.” 

“That is not necessary,” Avery said, sounding more rough and dismissive than she would have liked. 

She turned to leave, now that their conversation was finished. When she was out the door she heard Josephine’s hasty goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this is a month later than I would have liked. Sorry about that! A family member had a pretty serious surgery, but she's doing great. I also bought a new computer! Been trying to move files and stuff. So, if the writing feels weird or off, I'll try to fix that next time. I cobbled this together from a file I had on my laptop, a googledoc i worked on at work, and another file I started on my new computer.  
> I've also decided to start posting art sometimes! Tell me what you guys think. If you'd prefer, I'll just post links next time.  
> 


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